Control
by BreeZombiee
Summary: His coach had wanted the perfect body. Dalton wanted the perfect grades. His father wanted the perfect son. Blaine wanted the perfect guy. They all wanted him to be perfect. He could do that. Future Puckurt. Warning: Eating disorders, Self Harm.
1. Boiling Point

**This came to me after I saw the kitchen scene with Kurt and Burt. And afterwards it started to turn into something more. I was inspired by the latest Glee episode and National Eating Disorder Awareness Week. This is sort of a spin off after BIOTA and will take a life of it's own. There will be Puckurt in later chapters. Trigger Warning: Eating Disorders, Self Injury, Somewhat Mental Illness. -Insert Disclaimer-**

* * *

He felt physically sickened by the entire ordeal that just happened. He couldn't believe that his father, his own _dad_ would ask him to apologize over something so stupid. But Kurt could feel the real meaning behind it all. The real reason that his father wanted an apology.

Burt Hummel wanted him to apologize for being gay.

That's what this entire thing was about. Not because he had Blaine sleepover, not because he was at a party drinking. It wasn't even because he was in a crappy mood. It was because he loved guys instead of girls. And his father, even though he swore left and right he supported it…his father was a homophobe.

Kurt's stomach clenched painfully as he walked away from him his father. The man that he had once looked up to. The one he could count on to make every one so scared of homosexuality back the hell off. He was walking away from the one person he thought that he could always run to. He was walking away from a man who he'd lost his trust in.

Kurt felt sick and dirty and _humiliated. _

He felt so frigging _wrong._

Kurt bolted up the stairs to his new room as fast as his feet could carry him, slamming the door shut and locking himself in. His stomach continued to roll in circles although he hadn't had anything to eat that day just yet. He made his way to the bathroom connected to his bedroom. He dropped to his knees, emptying the contents of his stomach into the porcelain object. He gagged, his body shivering as his retching finally came to a stop.

A knock on his door shook him from where he was staring with blank eyes.

"Kurt?"

His first reaction was to tell him to go away. He really didn't want to talk to anyone. But then he realized that the voice behind the door wasn't his father. He stood, wiping his mouth off and flushing the toilet before making his way to his door, staggering slightly as he opened it.

"Noah?"

The other male smiled at him sheepishly. "Hey Hummel."

Kurt blinked up at him, reaching a hand up to his forehead to see if he was sick or something. Because there was no way that Noah Puckerman was standing at his bedroom door with a smile on his face. Then all too soon he remembered why he was up here and feeling sick anyways.

"I'm sorry Noah, you have to leave."

Puck looked stricken for a moment, as though he had just been told he was the scum of the earth. He bit at his lip and turned to walk away before Kurt realized how it sounded.

"It's not that I don't like you or anything….it's just…my dad…"

Puck turned to look at him. "What's up with the old man?"

"He doesn't want me being inappropriate under his roof."

Puck stared for a long moment before walking in and shutting the door behind him, clicking the lock in place once more before sitting down on Kurt's chair, staring up at him as though he was waiting. Kurt looked at him dumbstruck. Of all people to be in his room, waiting for an explanation, it was the jock who had thrown him into dumpsters for years.

But even though it was a weird situation, he found himself tearfully retelling every single detail.

* * *

Two hours later he was sitting in his kitchen with Puck, laughing and singing to 'Sweet Caroline' while they cooked. Puck offered out a piece of a brownie they had made to Kurt but the countertenor shook his head, talking about extra calories.

"You haven't eaten all day." Puck spoke, raising a brow.

"I'm fine, don't worry." Kurt smiled before turning to him. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why are you here? I mean, not that this isn't fun or anything…but…we've never really talked before."

Puck sighed softly before leaning back against the counter. "You weren't drunk at that party. I was hardly buzzed, and Finn was too caught up with his 'I love Rachel and Quinn at the same time' pity party. I saw your reaction."

Kurt turned red. "M-my reaction?"

"When Blaine and Rachel kissed. Then I heard about what happened between you two at the coffee shop. And then you tell me what happened with your father…it sounds like you need a friend right now."

Kurt stared at him for a long moment, then did something he never dreamed of.

Puck just wrapped his arms around the smaller boy as he ran into his arms, holding onto his t-shirt for life as he cried. The jock didn't hate the kid, really he didn't. And after being in glee club with him, he actually came to like the little gay kid. But it seemed like even at Dalton with a zero tolerance bullying policy did nothing to get him someone to really talk to.

"I take it you haven't talked to Blaine since the fight?" A shake of the head. "And Mercedes is busy with Quinn?" A nod this time. "Rachel's trying to steal Blaine so you haven't spoken." Another nod. "So you have no one to talk to about any of this." One last shake before another small sob.

"Well that's a lie."

Kurt looked up at him, looking as though he was slapped. "What?"

"You have me."

Kurt's frown turned into a smile before nodding his head.

The two broke apart when they heard a clear of a throat.

* * *

"Dad, I can explain."

"Mr. Hummel."

"Is this some way of rebelling?"

Kurt shook his head, taking a few steps towards his father. "Dad…"

"What have I told you about this sort of stuff under my roof? We just talked about this, Kurt!"

"I know dad! But you don't understand!"

"Don't tell me what I don't understand! You're in my house, latching onto whatever boy comes in!"

Kurt bit at his lip, turning away. "That's not what it is, dad. Noah's my friend."

"So was Blaine, but that didn't stop you from sleeping with him!"

"We shared a bed, dad! Fully clothed! He was passed out the entire time!"

Burt shook his head, about to speak when Finn walked through the room, with Quinn of all people. The two smiled as they rushed up the stairs. "Hey, Burt! Quinn's spending the night!" he called before the shut of a door followed.

"Alright, son!"

Kurt's eyes widened as he flinched.

"Thanks, dad." He murmured lowly, feeling sick once more.

"That's different, Kurt!"

"How is it different dad? That I was hugging Noah and helping my drunken friend while Finn just waltzes in here? You _know_ what he's doing! You just go on ahead and let that happen! But when I do _nothing wrong_ suddenly it's like I deserve the worst son award! Explain this to me dad! Tell me how this is-"

"It's because you're a fag!"

Kurt froze, Noah stared, and Burt cupped a hand over his mouth. A small, feminine gasp echoed through the room as Carole nearly dropped the groceries she was just bringing in after giving Finn and Quinn a ride home. She stared wide eyed at her husband, then at her step-son.

"Burt…" she whispered softly.

Kurt stood frozen, his stomach doing that familiar churning once more.

That's what it was all about. Being the perfect, straight son. That's what his father wanted. He had so many flaws. He was gay. He had pear hips. His voice was too high. He dressed weird.

It was always his fault.

"Kurt…" Burt spoke, taking a step forward.

The countertenor looked to Noah pleadingly and the jock finally took action, grabbing his friends hand and pulling him out the door.

Kurt didn't care that he was crying, that he was gasping or holding onto Noah's hand far too tight for his own good. He didn't care that his father was calling after him or that Finn was staring at the window in confusion or that Carole was standing in the doorway, trying to get him back.

He just followed Noah.

Halfway after walking he stopped. "Noah, wait." He murmured softly as they came to an empty park where he spotted a garbage can.

The jock did as he was told, finally releasing his now friend.

Kurt stood still for a moment.

His coach had wanted the perfect body.

Dalton wanted the perfect grades.

His father wanted the perfect son.

Blaine wanted the perfect guy.

They all wanted him to be perfect. He could do that. He _would_ do that. He took a step forward as he thought about the mental list. He could still prove that he had control. He did have control. He could control what he ate. What he didn't.

He _needed_ that control.

He _needed _to be perfect.

Kurt doubled over in front of the garbage can, spewing the non-existent contents of his stomach, a smile forming on his face.

He had control.


	2. Perfection

**I want to thank you all so much for your support already of this fic! It's really amazing how much feedback I've gotten in one night. I promise to update this one quick, it takes just a bit more research so I can get the disorder correct. Thank you everyone who reads, and especially you reviewers, you make my day. -Insert Disclaimer-**

* * *

Kurt pulled the hoodie over his hair, effectively covering the brunette strands before slipping on his sunglasses and making his way up towards the building. He felt like a deranged robber, but he wasn't really looking forward to running into anyone today. He had traveled as far from Dalton and Lima as he could without actually getting too out of reach, until he spotted a Wal-Mart.

He chewed at his lip, grabbing a basket and perching it on his arm as he shifted on his feet, making his way towards the health and beauty section. He made his way towards the back before picking up a few boxes of laxatives. He told himself that they were just because his stomach had felt bloated lately. Even though a little voice told him that was because he was eating like a big.

He frowned at himself, he'd eaten enough to feed a whole village the past week. He had two bowls of soup the other day. Two. Freaking. Bowls. Kurt shook his head in disgust as he made his way towards the pharmacy, searching until he found what he needed. Weight loss pills, along with an interesting looking box of tea that staved off your hunger.

He looked at different nutritional bars, checking their calories and fat grams, crinkling his nose at the high number. He'd have to aim low to get himself high. Kurt walked towards the health food aisle, spending a long time obsessing over which would be healthier, which had less calories, and finally settling on plain rice cakes.

He bought several packages.

After embarrassingly watching the woman ring up the laxatives and the rest of his items he paid for them before getting the hell out of their and to his car, feeling the vehicle tilt the tiniest bit when he got into the driver's seat, reminding him just how much he had needed this shopping trip.

He drove back towards Dalton in silence, the only thing breaking it was when his phone went off. He pressed the answer button before placing it on the dashboard and continuing to drive, yawning a bit.

"Hello?

"Hey you."

Kurt grinned immediately when he heard his friends voice. "Hello Noah."

"Hey. How're you feeling Hummel?"

"It's getting better." He lied smoothly.

It had been a week since the incident at his house and the one with Noah at the park. He had told Noah that he was feeling sick and bolted to his house, grabbed his spare keys from under his bumper and took the Navigator to Dalton. He hadn't returned to Lima yet.

"That's good. How about Blainey boy?"

"We still haven't spoken." Kurt murmured, pulling into the student parking lot. The last thing he really wanted was to talk about Blaine, who had taken to ignoring him like the plague. He had heard through the grapevine that Blaine kissed Rachel at the coffee shop, but he hadn't stayed for the rest.

"Rachel's been here writing sappy broken hearted songs during glee. Guess dwarfie realized he was playing batter for another team."

"Was there a sex jock wrapped into that sentence?"

"Probably."

Kurt smiled into the phone as he grabbed his bag and made his way towards the school. Noah's laughing almost made him forget about his growling stomach, telling him to eat something this week. But he could almost completely ignored it.

Almost.

* * *

Kurt stood up from where he was in the Dalton bathrooms. He shook his head, pulling his finger away from his mouth. This was a one-time thing, his stomach just felt so bloated and disgusting. He flushed the toilet in front of him before wiping his mouth off and exiting the stall, walking towards the sink to wash his hands. He froze when he saw Blaine, standing there.

"Hi…"

Kurt stared at him for a long moment before popping in a piece of sugar-free gum between his lips, wincing at the added calories involuntarily. "Oh, you're not afraid of making me mad."

"I was being stupid Kurt. I've been an awful person and should have never said those things to you. I don't know what I was thinking."

Kurt stared at him for a long time before sighing and give Blaine a quick hug before pulling back.

"Uhm…are you okay? I heard you vomiting."

"Oh…yeah…I think I might just have a bug or something. I'm fine." Kurt smiled at him before patting his shoulder. "Uhm…I'll see you later."

He bolted from the room as quick as he could, trying to avoid the boy he wasn't really ready to face yet as he walked towards the kitchen.

An hour later found him covered in flower and batter with dozens of cookies on top of different dishes. The aroma was so wonderful that his empty stomach seemed to beg just to eat one. He scolded himself for even thinking about eating the calories.

He bit at his lip, dumping the entire contents of the dishes into a large Tupperware container and making his way towards the commons for Warbler's practice. He smiled shyly at his fellow glee members and offered the cookies to them. The boys grinned and smiled, thanking him before devouring the cookies.

He resisted the urge to lick the bit of batter off of his hand.

* * *

Kurt stood in front of the mirror after packing his bag to return home for the weekend, it would be the first time he saw his father since the entire incident; he had been ignoring his phone calls and emails and texts.

He pinched at his rib cage. The first part of his list was to have the perfect body so he could go back and show coach Sylvester that his pear hips were so last season. He couldn't stop staring at his body. He had been dieting and eating, and he had that stomach bug that had him throwing up anything that he even attempted to eat. So why was he not losing weight?

His hips seemed to be getting larger and he was starting to fear that he would become too large to fit within the mirrors image. He glanced around his bathroom.

He was losing his control already and he had to find something that he could maintain. Something that no matter what happened he would be able to control it.

He searched frantically, trying to think.

He could control when to throw up.

When to eat.

He could control how many times he could eat.

Kurt's hand felt something sleek and metal and sharp in his toiletries drawer. He glanced at the small razor, his body immediately relaxing as he lifted the object.

He still had control.

He could still be perfect.

He just needed a little reminder. He glanced at his bare chest to his engorged stomach before smiling to himself. He just needed a reminder.

* * *

The drive home to Lima, the only thing on Kurt's mind was the letter's F, A, T, carved onto his stomach, and the one single word carved in his thigh.

_Perfect._


	3. Just Visiting

**Sorry about the little screw up with the previous chapter guys! I had named them both 'Perfect' and then it got messed up in my head and I winded up posting the first chapter again. I think I've figured that out not to do that again though! Thanks for all the support for this already. I know it's a darker fic, but angst is kind of like my crack. -Insert Disclaimer-**

* * *

He has to mentally tell himself seven times that he can do it. Then he finds himself throwing up in the bushes. And once more he finds himself in the car, thinking that he can do this as he brushes his teeth with one of those Colgate wisps that he's grown so fond of. He licks his teeth to make sure there's not traces of vomit and he shakes his head as he pops a piece of gum into his mouth.

He was just nervous. That's why he ended up puking.

It's not because the most he's eaten this week was a rice cake, or that he's been jogging five miles every morning. Or the fact that he's about to see the father who called him a fag. He was just nervous because he must be ill or something. A stomach bug.

He's just a little sick right now.

Kurt takes in a deep breath before making his way up to the front door, chewing on his lip and praying that Carole will open the door. He knocks and a few seconds later his dream is answered as Carole opens the door and squeals, pulling him into her arms. "Oh, look at you! You're looking good!" she coos.

"It's only been a week, Carole." He chuckles.

The older woman just smiles, taking him in. "You look skinnier. Are you dieting?"

Kurt shakes his head. "No, of course not." And he isn't dieting. He's just perfecting himself.

"You look hungry." Carole murmurs, pulling him in. "I've made chicken soup."

Kurt starts calculating the calories that could be in a bowl of soup and cringes. He looks up once more to find his father standing in the doorway, baseball cap in his hand and just staring.

Kurt's waiting for the blow up. Or for him to tell him to get out of the house.

Burt takes a few steps forward before pulling Kurt into his arms. "I'm so sorry." And Kurt can feel the tears moistening his thin shirt and he holds his father as if he's stopping him from falling to the floor. Carole's wiping away a few tears and Burt's full out shaking while Finn stands dumbly in the doorway. But Kurt can't find it in his heart to forgive him just yet.

But he promises himself that once he's perfect, he'll be able to.

"It's alright dad." He whispers softly, the lie slipping out so easily.

"No, it's not Kurt. I had no damn right to say something so awful. It's not true kid. You're the best damn son out there. And the fact that you're…gay doesn't change a damn thing."

And Kurt wants to believe him. He wants to pretend that those words are true. But the slight hesitation before the word 'gay' is what makes him change his mind. But he just keeps smiling happily at his father.

Because he knows soon that he's going to be the son that his father wants. He's going to lose this weight and show his coach and then she'll bring his father in and tell him what a damn wonderful cheerleader his son is even if he's not on the McKinley team anymore.

And then he feels sick because his father doesn't want a faggy cheerleading son. He wants a football playing, straight jock.

He wants Finn.

And now Kurt's starting to feel himself break once more because he remembers that Finn's the perfect kid in the family and all these thoughts are screaming around in his mind that he has to excuse himself to the bathroom.

He takes a large breath and stares into the mirror for a long moment, pulling the razor out from his jeans pocket and pressing it gingerly to his forearm after pulling up the sleeve. He feels better as the cool metal slides across his heated skin.

Watching every single worry bleed away is enough to relieve him.

He sinks down onto the edge of the bathtub and just breaths.

He'll bleed every bad thing out of him and in turn there will only be perfection.

* * *

Kurt decides that dinner with his family is absolute torture.

It's not because Carole's food is horrible, because it's amazing. It's just the fact that he's eaten half of the large bowl Carole passed in front of him and he keeps feeling the chair buckle under his intense weight.

"Not hungry, kiddo?"

Kurt looks up. "I had a big lunch, and now I'm regretting it."

Yeah, those rice cakes killed him. That's probably why he's been throwing up so much lately. Must be something that doesn't agree with him.

"I think I'm just going to head to bed."

"Oh before you go, I think that Puckerman called. Sounded kind of excited to hear you were home for the weekend."

Finn raises an eyebrow but Kurt can feel himself perking up. "Noah called?"

"Yeah."

Kurt nods, excusing himself and running upstairs to his room, snatching his cell phone off the desk and dialing the familiar number. He only has to wait a few moments before Puck answers the phone with a breathless "Hummel."

"Hey Noah."

He can practically hear the smile in the other males face, and that makes his heart do this little flippy thing and his stomach clenches like he's about to puke. His eyes widen when he realizes that he really _is_ going to puke and he makes a mad dash to the toilet before emptying the contents of his stomach.

He's cursing that stupid soup.

There's a voice in his head that's telling him he just wanted to get anything he ate out of his stomach before he gets fatter. But he knows that's insane. Because he doesn't have a problem or anything. He's the one in control. Yes. He told himself to throw up that food because he's so horribly fat and ugly and flawed that he had to get the food out.

Wait, what?

His mind goes full circle and he can hear Noah's voice from the phone but it sounds squeaky and far away, and soon his head is spinning and there's darkness and pain as his head hits the cold tile.


	4. Virus

**Thank you everyone for your kind reviews. This has become one of my favorite fics to write because, even as a Klaine shipper, I need to see a few less Kurt/Blaine fics popping up. Ahah. I would like to remind you all to PLEASE vote in the poll on my profile. It will close probably this weekend and there will be a new one with what you would like the oneshot to be about. Also, always feel free to send requests. Thank you lovelies! -Insert Disclaimer-**

* * *

The first thing he realizes when his eyes open is someone is holding him, patting his forehead with a wet cloth. Second is that he can't breathe. He's sweating and shivering and he feels like his heart is going to burst out of his chest. His stomach is clenching painfully tight and he thinks he's going to vomit again. And he's dizzy, so dizzy.

Kurt breathes heavily, trying to catch a breath but the oxygen he breathes in doesn't want to leave his lungs. And he's trapped. He can't see anything in front of him it's so blurry and someone is trying to choke him because he _can't fucking breathe!_ And for the love of everything why is nobody helping him?

He's going to die right like this. He can hear a voice, he thinks. Some sort of rumbling that shakes his entire small body and he really can't breathe and someone is trying to choke him. There's pressure on his throat and he wants to kick and scream and cry but he can't move because someone had to puncture his spine and oh god, he's really going to die.

"Kurt! Kurt you have to calm down!"

And he recognizes Noah's voice and suddenly no one is choking him anymore, and his stomach unclenches. His heart rate slows down and he can see again. He can see that Noah's holding him in his arms and he's not trapped anymore, his muscles are returning and Noah must have healed his spine. He follows the deliberate breathes his friend is taking and he lets his head fall onto Noah's shoulder.

He knows that he's safe now and that no one is going to hurt him. Noah's here to protect him now.

Noah had promised to be the one person to take care of him. And even as he smells something like heaven and hell and Noah's telling him that he should eat, all he can think is one thing.

He's safe.

* * *

When he wakes up again, it's almost dark in his room except for the dim light in the corner. Noah still has a hold of him, but this time the other's sleeping next to him and he yawns, frowning when he tastes something like broth on his tongue and lips. He glances over at the table to see a large bowl of soup that's been emptied and he feels sick to his stomach.

He remembers now how he had awoken with a panic attack and Noah had calmed him down before giving him something to eat.

And now he could feel the weight sloshing around inside of his stomach.

Kurt slips easily out of Noah's arms and runs to the bathroom, shoving his finger so far down his throat that he almost fears he's going to rip something out as he vomits up the soup that he had been forced to eat.

This doesn't mean he has a problem. He's on a strict diet, and that soup ruined everything. He still feels a bit dizzy but he blames it on the fact that he just woke up. He tastes blood but ignores it as he flushes the toilet and brushes his teeth.

He's just sliding into bed when Noah stirs and sits up immediately when Kurt's not in his arms.

The countertenor stares at the other in long silence before Noah lets out a breath of relief. "I was so scared. We were talking then I heard you getting sick and then there was a thump and silence. I raced over here and found you on the floor."

Kurt chews on his lip, trying to think of an excuse.

"Burt tells me that you haven't been feeling well. I think you've got a stomach virus. Probably why you can't keep anything down. Do you know when it started?"

And Kurt's trying hard not to smile because he remembers reading that some stomach bugs can last ten days to two weeks. And now that he's home from Dalton for break all he can think is that this is the perfect excuse. He doesn't have to eat and he can throw up anything he receives.

He does not have an eating disorder.

Kurt knows this for a fact.

There is not one thing wrong with him.

He must really have a stomach virus because it's weird that he just keeps throwing his food up every chance he gets. He knows that Noah will take care of him now.

"It started this morning."

A voice in Kurt's head screams that he's lying; he chooses to ignore it because hey, there is nothing wrong with him. He's just sick. Really, really sick.

He stares at his hands for a long moment, noticing that they seem to be drying near his fingers and knuckles. He has to start moisturizing again, his skin isn't looking the greatest and he shakes himself from his thoughts when he hears Noah's voice again.

"Are you cold?"

"Huh?"

"You're shivering, Kurt."

The countertenor finally realizes that yes, he is cold. He looks up at Noah and nods his head. The jock stands and makes his way to the chair, grabbing his mother's afghan before tucking him under the blankets. "I'll get you something to drink and make you food."

Kurt immediately makes a face at the thought of calories entering him. Does Noah want him to be even fatter or something?

Noah notices the face and chuckles. "Right, stomach virus. I'll get some ginger ale and saltines."

Kurt smiles and nods his head although he's trying to add up the calories of two saltine crackers and a glass of ginger ale.

He hates the number that it comes up as.

* * *

When Noah returns he pretends that he's asleep so he won't have to eat and please his friend.

He feels bad because they had both become so close to each other since that day in his house but Kurt knows that if he wants perfection, he's going to have to lie so no one can fatten him up with their soda and stupid empty calorie crackers.

So Kurt screws his eyes shut and makes a small snoring noise. Noah tucks him in closer before ruffling his hair gently and making his way back downstairs to tell Burt the verdict and that he's planning on staying for the weekend.

Kurt sits up when Noah leaves and slowly creeps his way into the bathroom with the food. He dumps the ginger ale down the sink and shoves the crackers under a bunch of tissues in the wastebasket before returning the dishes to the night stand.

He doesn't have a problem. He just can't stand the smell of food right now.

He does have a stomach virus, after all.


	5. Something's Wrong

**Thank you for all of the support thus far. I know I haven't really gotten much detail into the story about the effects of eating disorder's, but this just felt like the right time for this. Thanks for the wonderful reviews and I'll try to work on the next chapter today. -Insert Disclaimer-**

* * *

Kurt's silent as he sits in front of his vanity, staring at his face in the reflection of the mirror. He woke up the next morning with the worlds worst headache and had to get out of bed and move. He found himself trying to work on his skin because he's been breaking out lately. It's been almost three weeks since he started dieting and he hasn't seen any change. Kurt bites at his lip roughly. He should be able to control this, he _is_ in control, and he's going to be perfect.

He runs his fingers through his hair and is surprised when a few strands come out with it. There must be something wrong with his new shampoo. He knows that he shouldn't have switched brands like that because now he just looks plain awful.

He can't figure out why his skin is breaking out or why his hair isn't as shiny as it had once been. And he's so freaking tired. He's probably becoming unhealthy from all the food that Noah tried to give him yesterday. Kurt lays his head on the vanity for a few moments, yawning. His throat is sore and he feels like his entire body is just trying to pull him back to his warm bed.

He looks back into his mirror and starts working on getting some color back into his suddenly pale skin. He adds his moisturizer, then his cover up and a slight bronzer so he'll look healthier, because this stomach virus is really trying to kick his ass. And that damn chicken soup is probably still floating around in his stomach. Kurt's fists clench in anger and he stands, walking to his closet and grabbing out a pair of sweats and a baggy sweatshirt, changing into them and tying the sweatpants tighter than usual before lacing up his sneakers, making his way down the stairs.

"You're looking a little better."

He literally jumps and shrieks, causing his sore throat to ache as he stares at Noah in shock. He had forgotten that his friend was staying over for the weekend to help take care of him. "H-Hello Noah."

Puck smiles at him and walks over. "Where you heading?"

"I wanted to take a run…uh…they help with my stomach."

The jock looks at him for a moment but nods his head. "When I get cramps after football I run them off." He states before grinning. "I'll come with you."

Kurt curses himself for telling Noah the truth because he's going to look like a fat ass trying to run down the sidewalk with the jock. He wonders how Noah can have a body like that. Why can't he have muscles like Sam or be skinny like Quinn and Santana? He wants to have a body like that. All of them are perfect. Mercedes works her curves wonderfully. But Kurt can't do that because he's so frigging _ugly._

"Ready?"

The countertenor shakes his head out of his thoughts and smiles up at his friend, nodding his head. "Yeah."

"Hope you can keep up Hummel."

Kurt glares at him for a moment before snatching his iPod. "Is that a fat joke, Puckerman?" he growls angrily before shoving his headphones and running out the door to start his jog, ignoring Puck's yells and apologies.

All this work and he's still fat. He knew this was going to happen. He has to be perfect but he's just too damn stupid to be able to get it right. He listens to the music's steady beat, his feet keeping in time with the heavy bass, like adrenaline coursing through his veins. His footsteps feel heavy and forced, it's getting hard to breathe now but he keeps moving, even though there's a cramp in his side and he feels like he's going to pass out.

This is his body telling him that he's so out of shape that he can't even do a simple running. He pushes forward, breathing heavily as the bass keeps up with his running now, and he's flying down the sidewalk and he feels so powerful and in control. A smile takes over his face even though his breathing is slowing down and his legs are staggering and he's slowing down. The first thing he notices is that the sidewalk is suddenly much closer than he thought.

The cold concrete hits him like a smack in the face and he doesn't realizes that he's screaming in pain and absolute agony because his stomach is twisting and it hurts so freaking bad. He's holding onto his abdomen in the area above his stomach because he feels like it's going to explode and there are warm tears running down his face.

The pain in his left side is making him curl into himself because his chest is clenching so painfully and all he can think is that this hurts too damn much for him to do anything.

A heavy thumping is making itself closer and he can't tell if it's his heart or footsteps and somebody is screaming. It's not until Noah pulls him into his arms and screams for Finn to call 911 that he realizes he's the one screaming and that something is seriously _wrong._

His heart is clenching and he holds his hands over it to try and stop the pain. It felt like he was suffocating and he can hear so many voices and sirens but he's starting to lose it. Everything's so fuzzy and far away and he doesn't know where he went wrong.

Everything was supposed to be perfect. He was supposed to be strong but now he messed it all up and he knows that he's going to have to trying harder.

"Kurt?"

The voice sounds far away but it's Noah's voice so he has to try to respond to it, even though the sirens are so loud. He opens his eyes best as he can even though he's slipping further and further away.

"Kurt, you gave to tell me what you've done." Noah speaks, and something wet is dripping on his face. He wants to wipe it off but his arms hurt too much and his voice is hoarse. He knows that something bad is happening to him but he forces the words out before darkness consumes him.

"I just wanted to be perfect..."


	6. Denial

**Even I was surprised how quickly I wrote this after just posting the previous chapter. These next six or seven chapters are going to be from everyone elses points of view. You'll notice that they are all the seven stages of grief. They may be a tiny bit shorter. Thanks for the support lovelies, it means a lot. -Insert Disclaimer-**

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Finn finally thinks he understands what Kurt was going through during his father's heart attack. At the time he really didn't know Burt well enough, it still hurt, but not as much as this did. During that time instead of trying to pray for his futures step-brother's father, he prayed for football and girls. Now that he's standing at the bed of his little brother, he knows exactly how Kurt felt.

But this can't be right.

Kurt's his little brother. He's not supposed to be in a coma at the hospital. And he was most certainly not supposed to have a heart attack. Finn may not be the smartest tool in the box or whatever that saying is, but he knows that something is wrong. Kurt was a health freak, he was always taking care of himself or joining Finn when he was out jogging.

Kurt wasn't the kind of person who got sick and had a heart attack.

He finds it so weird that they're in practically the same room as they were before, only instead of Burt, Kurt is comatose in the bed.

Normally his mind would jump to like father like son, and then snicker at the similar names, but right now he can't smile.

He never realized how tiny the brunette was. Sure, he was skinny and kind of shorter than him. But everyone's shorter than him. But laying there, Kurt looks like a child.

He looks up when the nurse comes in but remains silent. He knows that the doctors and nurses are going to everyone individually so they can process the information on their own. Finn guesses that it's just his turn for them to tell him what the hell happened to his brother.

He feels bad because he thinks that maybe his brother got a really bad disease or something. Kurt always did like being flashy.

"You're Finn Hudson, correct?"

"Hudmel." He responds absently before nodding his head.

"Kurt is your step-brother, correct?"

Finn wonders why the doctor keeps adding correct at the end of every sentence but he responds anyways. "Yes, what's wrong with my brother?"

The doctor take a seat next to him and places a hand on his shoulder. "Your brother has been suffering from bulimia and anorexia nervosa." The doctor speaks calmly. "It's a disease where-"

But Finn isn't listening anymore. He knows what those mean. It means that Kurt hasn't been eating, and when he does he throws it all up. But that's not his brother.

"You're wrong." He suddenly speaks, causing the doctor to stop spewing medical terms at him.

"Pardon me?"

"You're wrong. You have the wrong person. Kurt wouldn't do that to himself."

The doctor sighs softly and pats his shoulder. "I'll give you some time to let this sink in."

Finn sits frozen as he watched the white coat exit the door before turning back to his brother. There is no way that Kurt had an eating disorder. He stood up slowly and made his way towards his brother, biting his lip when he takes his wrist and realizes that he's almost able to make a complete fist around it.

He shakes his head when he sees the cuts on his forearms and he feels sick, dropping his arm carefully and stepping back, falling into the chair. The doctors are wrong. He has to be dreaming or something because he _knows_ that Kurt wouldn't do this!

He sits in the uncomfortable hospital chair just thinking of all the things that he's done wrong with his brother.

He remembers when Kurt used to look up to him last year. When he was still just another kid they threw in the trash. But he could always remember the thankful look in his eyes when Finn held onto his coat and bag. It was something small, but it always seemed to make the small countertenor just a tiny bit better.

He remembers the way that Kurt helped him through the entire babygate situation. How so many people were worried about Quinn, he worried about Finn.

There was the time that Kurt slushied himself for him, asked him if he was okay, sat in silence while Finn whined over the fact that the baby wasn't his own.

Then he remembers the time he called Kurt a fag in the basement. How he was more concerned about his reputation than the hurtful things he has said to the smaller boy in his own room. He remembered the look of absolute _hurt_ and _betrayal _in Kurt's eyes, but he just walked away from that.

He sang to Kurt at their parents wedding, but it was too late because Kurt was already being pushed over the edge and he didn't become the brother that was needed until it was too late and Kurt was gone.

And regionals, when Kurt looked so lost on that stage and Finn did nothing but watch Rachel get him to smile. They were hardly friends and yet she was the one bringing the smile to Kurt's face. Not him, his own _brother._

There were so many times where he should have been a better friend, a better brother to Kurt and he just wasn't. He overlooked every little thing in spite of the promises that he had made him.

Where was he during this entire thing? Was he really so consumed with his own problems that he hadn't noticed Kurt wasting away right before his eyes?

He remembered the doctor rattling something about three weeks. Had Kurt really been starving himself for three weeks?

He knew the boy looked skinnier when he got home for break, but he took the non-eating was just a little phase. He never once asked if his brother was okay. But he shook his head.

Kurt does not have an eating disorder.

The doctors were wrong.

Because Kurt is a good person, obsessed with taking care of himself.

He takes one last look at his brother before he stands up to go find his mother and tell them that the doctors messed up.

Because he knows that his brother wouldn't do this.

He _knows_ that the doctors are wrong.


	7. Guilt

**You guys are all seriously amazing and had me writing like I was possessed or something because I really wanted to get these chapters out for you all! Thank you for your reviews, they make me smile so much. Hope you enjoy. -Insert Disclaimer-**

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His boy looked so young and small hooked up to those machines. He had walked in a few moments after Finn was leaving, mumbling something about lying doctors and finding his mother. Burt sighed softly as he sat down on his seat, waiting to hear what the doctors had to say to him. It seemed Finn was the first one to be told what was going on with Kurt since he had gone to get a coffee.

The doctor walked in and gave him a sad smile. He took his seat and Burt had a feeling he had done the same a few moments ago with his step-son. "Mr. Hummel?"

"Please, what's wrong with my son?"

The doctor looked a bit saddened but he explained to him what was happening.

Burt sat in confusion, all of these different medical terms running through his mind. Bulimia, Anorexia, Nervosa, Starvation, Scarring, Cuts, Disorders.

Burt nodded his head at each word until the doctor left him alone and he dropped his head into his hands. His little boy had an eating disorder. The boy he had raised was cutting himself. He felt like the world's worst father, and in a few ways, he could have been.

He had treated his son like he was nothing but dirt on his shoe, something he had sworn he would never do. He loved Kurt within every inch of his being, and yet his little boy had felt so lost and pressured that he turned to starvation.

He remembered those words his boy had whispered before he passed out in Noah's arms.

He said that he wanted to be perfect.

Burt felt a wave of overwhelming guilt take over his body. This was all his fault. He had called his son a fag right to his face, he had overreacted and tore away Kurt's trust in him. He'd promised Kurt that he was accepted fully for who he was, but he had betrayed him.

He had made Kurt believe that he needed to be the perfect, straight son. He had never told his boy how wonderful he was. How perfect he was. Burt felt awful that a part of his old high school homophobia still haunted him, and he had released it on his perfect son.

He should have been able to prevent something like this from happening. He should have been a better father to Kurt.

How had he not noticed his boy wasting into nothing?

He was always too busy taking Finn to baseball games, or watching football with him, or teaching him about cars that he hadn't noticed that his son needed someone to do things with him. Maybe Kurt wasn't into the stuff that Burt was. But he still could have done things with his son. They both loved working on cars; he could have gone to the movies with Kurt or listened to him practice for those bird boys that he sang for at Dalton.

He was the world's worst father.

He remembered the one time he had walked into the basement after hearing screaming come from the basement. He remembered the devastated look on Kurt's face when Finn had called the items in the room faggy. He could easily compare it with the look that Kurt had given him when that word slipped through his lips.

How could he have gotten so made at Kurt and Puck? The mohawked jock was giving his son the love that he had been keeping from him.

Looking back he could see all the ways that he had shot down his son and ignored him.

How he had made Kurt believe that he had to play football for him to be proud.

He'd asked so much of his son, but every time Kurt had asked for something in return, he turned it down.

Anytime Kurt had asked for his help, or opinion, or for Burt to listen to him sing this song, he was always busy or with Finn or going out with Carole. He had told Kurt that he could always come to him, and yet he was never there.

The gentle beeping of the machines broke him out of his thoughts as he looked up at his son. It hadn't been that long ago that the roles were reversed. Where he was once lying comatose in that bed while his son was left alone and scared. Exactly how he was feeling at the exact moment. Afraid that his son would never open his eyes. That Kurt was going to waste away.

He pulled his chair up to the side of Kurt's bed and took his son's hand, remembering the words about self-injury. He turned Kurt's arm over to stare at the scars. How could he have not noticed what was happening to his boy?

He lifted the blanket off to see the hospital gown that Kurt would probably hate. He pulled it up, thankful that they had kept his briefs on, because the last thing he needed was one of the boys to walk in and see Kurt so exposed in vulnerable.

His heart literally broke when he saw the three lettered word carved into his abdomen, but tears started flowing freely when he read the word on his thigh.

Perfect.

That's what Kurt had thought he had to be.

Burt replaced the gown and the blankets, glad the doctor hadn't listed any more areas that had been scarred, because he didn't think he'd be able to take it.

Burt grabbed his sons hand in his own as he sat back down.

"Listen, Kurt." He whispered, pressing his lips to his son's skinny hand. "You are the most amazing son a man could ever ask for. I'm sorry I've been a horribly father to you, but I promise, when you wake up, I'll never let you think these things about yourself ever again."

Burt hoped that Kurt would be able to hear him through his comatose state.

Burt stood up slowly, feeling pain run through his entire body.

He messed up once, but he promised himself that he would never let it happen again. Burt made his way out of the room, he would have to go greet Carole when she got there.


	8. Anger

**Hey everyone. I know that this Burt is a bit out there, hence the last chapter, but I promise I do keep my views and know that he's a good father, but I kind of needed him this way for the story to work the way it does. I'm so very glad that all of you seem to like this story so much, it means the world. -Insert Disclaimer-**

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He watched slowly as the blood trickled down his knuckles and the punching bag in front of him. He was beyond pissed. He was freaking _infuriated._

How could Hummel be so frigging stupid? Didn't the kid know that he was already as tiny as a twig? Why was he so obsessed with his body image like a complete idiot? Puck slammed his fists against the bag once more, lashing out with everything he had as he hissed and kicked. He continued to beat on the object until his lungs were burning and his hands were aching from the broken skin on his knuckles.

He sank down to the floor, watching the crimson fluid drip down the cool plastic material heated by his skin.

"Why are you so stupid?" he whispered softly, holding his head in his hands.

He could easily remember the first time he saw Kurt Hummel.

He was about seven years old and playing in the park with the rest of his friends. He was currently invested in a game of tag with Azimio and Karofsky when a small boy caught his eye. He had fluffy brunette hair and was dressed sort of like the girls were, with a bow around his neck.

He was holding the hand of a taller woman with long brown hair that cascaded in curls down her back, wearing a pale yellow sundress. The little boy refused to leave his mother's side and ended up sitting alone when she went to go get something from the car.

Puck had walked up to the little boy and started a conversation, until Karofsky had called him over to get away from the girly looking boy, and quickly followed, leaving the eccentric child alone once more.

The jock bit at his lip, trying to shake the memory away from his mind as he stood up once more.

He hadn't known what he'd done that morning to make Kurt so angry, but he was suddenly barging out of the house and down the sidewalk. It led him to wondering why Kurt had ran off like he was about to cry. He remembered calling Finn to follow him before running after the male, he knew something was wrong.

The second they rounded the corner he had heard the screaming, immediately telling his best friend to go call an ambulance.

Holding Kurt in his arms was one of the most scary things he'd ever done. He honestly though that he was losing his friend before he'd even gotten the chance to get to know him better. He felt as though he should have known the signs of everything that was happening.

Listening to Finn over the phone nearly wrecked him. Puck couldn't believe that Kurt had an eating disorder. He slowly added everything together ns realized it must have started the day when they had both left the Hudmel home. He remembered having a 2 hour long conversation with Burt over the phone while Kurt slept over at his house.

Puck guessed that was the night that he and Kurt had become friends.

The jock slowly made his way out of his house, jumping into his truck and starting the way towards the hospital. Once the ambulance had taken his friend away, he had to go to his house and just figure things out, because his anger would be of no help at the hospital.

He realized that his hands were shaking, clutching desperately at the wheel as he felt warm tears streaming down his cheeks, causing him to scream out and slam on the gas a tiny bit.

Hummel was so frigging stupid! Who did he think he was worrying everyone sick? And now there he was in a coma, hanging by a thread because he was a complete idiot!

Noah immediately hated himself for thinking so angrily towards the smaller boy as he pulled into the parking lot and made his way towards the room. He kept reminding himself that this was not the time to go all fight club on anyone's ass. He had to make sure that Kurt was okay and being taken care of.

His stomach flipped when he saw the smaller boy lying in the hospital bed, surrounded by machines and various wires attached to his body. Puck made his way into the room and sat down in the chair placed next to Kurt's bed, the warmth seeping through him and he had a feeling that Kurt hadn't been left alone too often.

Puck stopped for a moment before he crawled into the hospital bed next to the small boy, careful not to rattle any wired as he brought the male closer to him, feeling the bones against his body and making him want to cry.

"Kurt, why would you do this to yourself?" he spoke quietly, not knowing if the boy could hear him in his comatose state. "You know, I always thought you were the most amazing boy I'd ever met…" he whispered, running his hands along Kurt's jaw gently, as if he would break him.

"I talked to your dad on the phone the night you were at my house…he honestly broke down crying and begging me to make sure you know he loves you. God Kurt, you have no idea how much we all love you."

Puck watched the steady rise and fall of Kurt's chest, feeling calmed by it, knowing that he was still alive and safe.

"I think I've always had a crush on you, Kurt." He admitted softly, resting his head on the pillow next to his friends. "I was so mad when I heard about what Blaine did to you…and I just tried so hard to distract myself from the fact that you were gone from McKinley…."

Puck pulled the boy a little closer.

"When you get out of here, I promise that I will make you feel better. And if you let me, I'm going to take you out on a proper date. I'll prove to you that you've always been perfect, Kurt. But you have to get better….you _will_ get better. We're all here for you. So please, Kurt, just wake up."

Puck felt that familiar anger and sadness run through him as he buried his now tear streaked face into Kurt's hair as he held him.

"Please….just wake up…"


	9. Bargaining

**This chapter is definitely not my finest piece of work, and I'm really rather unimpressed by how it came out, but I still hope that you enjoy it. The next one should be out soon, still following the seven stages of grief. -Insert Disclaimer-**

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Carole Hudson-Hummel prides herself in being a mother. Over any job in the world, she will always be a mother first. If her son came to her one day and told her that he wanted to play the cello while wearing a tutu, she'd be off her feet and parading her child proudly down the halls to display his talents and individuality.

So when she met one Burt Hummel and discovered his son was a bit more than eccentric, her heart soared. Kurt Hummel was a fashionista. He was proud of himself. He was out. Kurt Hummel was a boy who would never let anything get in the way of his dreams.

Carole is a proud Christian woman. She does not judge Kurt by the fact that he is gay. Or that he loves fashion and couture. She does not judge anyone.

So if her step-son falls in love with a boy, she'll be the first one out there with a NoH8 sign parading the streets of New York City in the next pride parade. She will support her children in anything.

What she cannot do is watch as her newest son wastes away to nothing.

After marrying Burt, she had grown to love Kurt as if he were her blood child. So the first thing that happens when she gets the call is she prays.

That's how she finds herself now, crying into her bed sheets, her soft hands pressed together. She pleads to her higher power that Kurt will get better.

"I know that you would never harm an innocent human life. Please, you have to protect my child. I'll be the best damn mother to that boy if you help him wake up, lord. You have to see how much this family needs him."

When Carole gets a second call from Finn, she knows that the boys need a female to help them out. They're probably suffering from malnutrition by now, and the last thing that Kurt needs to walk into is three starving boys around him.

She continues to pray and bargain on her way to the hospital.

"Kurt's a strong boy. His mother raised him well. And he made a mistake but I know that we can all help him fix it. Just please lord, give us strength to help pull him through this."

She pulls into the hospital around midnight, past visiting hours, but she knows they will stay as late as they need to.

Burt explains everything the doctors told him, and her heart just breaks when she hears the words anorexia and self-injury. She has a feeling that those are the words that have broken everybody in that room.

Carole finds Finn in the waiting room, asleep across a few chairs. She covers him with a blanket she gets from the nursing station and kisses his forehead. Her son has made some mistakes himself, but she knows how much he loves Kurt. She can see the worry lines on his sleeping face.

"Now you listen to me, Burt Hummel." She speaks when she sees him sitting in the chair, eyes wet and staring at the floor when she turns around. Her husband looks up to meet her eyes and she props her hands on her hips in a way that Kurt himself taught her.

"Kurt is a strong boy, but right now he's lost himself. He doesn't need sulking and he doesn't need you all worried sick and rundown. What he needs is four strong people to be there for him and tell him that he's going to be just fine. So you're going to get yourself back at that house, you are going to prepare Kurt's room for him. You will take a shower and get yourself some food."

By now Finn is awake; always startled out of sleep when he hears his mother start her monologues as though he's been trained to listen to them. Carole senses this and turns around to face the sleepy teenager.

"That goes to you too, Finnegan. You will take a shower after your father, you will eat a proper meal, and both of you will get a good night's sleep. I'll be home soon."

Both men don't say a word and just nod their heads, walking away like puppies with their tails between their legs.

Carole smiles to herself as she makes her way down the hall and to Kurt's room. She's still making promises of being a better mother, that she'll be a better person if her child gets better.

When she makes it to Kurt's room she cups a hand over her mouth.

Noah is fast asleep next to the small boy, holding him protectively in his arms, his face buried in a fluff of brunette hair. She can see the protectiveness and worry and fear carried on the males shoulders. Carole takes in a breath and makes her way towards the bed, placing a hand on Noah's shoulder.

"Come on dear, I'm going to take you home."

The look in the boys eyes makes her regret her words.

"I can't leave him, Mrs. Hummel. If I leave, he could wake up alone and scared. I-I can't leave him."

Carole nods her head once and sits down on one of the chairs as Noah turns to her, keeping a hand in Kurt's at all times.

"I don't know what to do about him, how to help him."

"Sweetie, none of us know what we're going to do. We just have to show Kurt that he's not alone."

Noah's voice cracks as tears run down his face. "He carved the word perfect into his leg…." The boy shakes his head. "Carole, he doesn't realize how perfect he really is..." he cries.

Carole watches the broken boy, so lost and scared and confused. She remembers the headstrong jock she had met so many years ago. No she sees a boy so frightened and so in love that she vows to help him through all of this.

Carole Hummel is a proud mother, wife, and friend.

She makes a promise to herself and to her boys that she will help make this better.

She presses a kiss to Noah's forehead before heading out the door and on her way back to the house.

Carole Hudson knows that she's got to get Kurt back, because he's the glue who holds together their entire family.


	10. Depression

**This was personally one of my favorite chapter's to write, in a weird kind of way. Thank you everyone who has read and reviewed, it means a lot to me. It really truely does. -Insert Disclaimer-**

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It had been two weeks since Kurt was admitted to the hospital, he was slowly looking a little better from the fluids they were pumping into him, gaining weight and looking healthier every day. But he had yet to wake up from his coma.

The four were currently in Kurt's room, just discussing different topics and reading over manuals and pamphlets about helping a family member with an eating disorder. Carole had been giving Finn and Burt strict rules on what to say and what not to say. She had spent an hour telling Burt that when he talked to his son, not to place blame on himself or anyone else. And she had later followed by telling Finn not comment on his weight, because that could make things worse.

Noah was sitting at his bedside chair when he felt a tightening on his hand. He immediately sat up to stare at him, watching the male's lashes flutter gently. "Kurt?"

The three family members immediately perked up and Carole ran to go get a doctor. Noah couldn't help but smile when his eyes connected with shockingly blue ones.

That feeling of happiness immediately dispersed.

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Kurt sat up quickly, snatching his hand out of Noah's before looking around at his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was that he was in a hospital, and the second was fear and worry. He glanced at the IV hanging from the stand next to him. He knew what those things were for. They were trying to pump even more calories into him.

He had a feeling that Noah knew exactly what he was thinking because he felt the jock's large hand on his arm. "Kurt…"

The countertenor looked towards his friend, finding the relief in his eyes, as well as the worry.

"You're in the hospital…you…you had a heart attack."

Kurt opened his lips but was shocked when he realized the discomfort was a tube. His eyes widened in shock as he stared at Noah, his blue eyes wide.

"It's alright, Kurt. Calm down….you had a heart attack, because you have an eating disorder." Noah spoke slowly and calmly, but Kurt's world felt like it was crashing down around him.

The small male shook his head quickly, his hands fluttering uselessly around the tube in fear.

"It's a feeding tube." Noah responded.

Kurt felt tears well in his eyes, shaking his head more violently.

It was going to ruin everything!

He was supposed to be perfect! Perfect people didn't get eating disorders! There was no way. There was nothing wrong with him! He had a stomach virus!

Kurt felt a wave of panic wash through him and he grabbed at the tube, getting ready to yank it from his throat.

"Kurt wait!" he paused at Noah's yell and the doctor had come in at that time.

"Hello, Kurt. I'm Doctor Robert, I'll take the tube out for you." He responded calmly, and Noah held onto his hand while the tube was taken out of his throat. He whimpered softly and closed his eyes, shaking his head as the doctor spoke. "Do you know why you're here, Kurt?"

"There's nothing wrong with me!" he spoke huskily, his throat raw from the tube.

He felt a wave of guilt run through him as he looked at his father, eyes wet with tears as he stayed back.

"Kurt, you were admitted from a heart attack caused by your lack of nutrition. You're hospitalized for an eating disorder called Anorexia Nervosa."

"NO!" Kurt screamed, thrashing back from the doctor. "There's nothing wrong with me! I was going to be perfect and you all ruined it!" he screamed. "You ruined everything!" he shrieked.

"Kurt, you have to listen to the doctor. We're here to help you…"

"No you're not! None of you are here to help me! You all wanted me to be so god damn perfect and then when I try you take it away from me! You always take away what I need!" he screamed, tears running down his face as he forced the words from his raw throat.

"Kurt…" Burt finally spoke.

"What! Are you going to ask them to inject me with a straight anecdote? Is this why I'm here?" he screamed at his father in a rage. "Am I perfect enough for you yet, dad! Am I as wonderful as Finn?"

"Kurt, you don't know what you're saying."

"I know exactly what I'm saying! You lied to me! All of you! You made me promises and you never kept them! Where were you dad? Huh? Where the hell were you when I _needed _you!"

Burt turned away from him, feeling pain through his body. "I'm sorry Kurt…"

"Everyone's always fucking sorry!" he hissed.

"Kurt…."

The brunette turned to stare from where the voice came, glancing at Noah. "You have to calm down, or they're going to give you a sedative."

The males eyes widened as he saw the doctor with said sedative in his hand, waiting if need be to insert it into his IV. Kurt shook his head.

"No no no! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he spoke quickly, gripping at Noah's hand. "Please, don't let them do this to me! I don't belong here! I'm fine, Noah, tell them I'm fine!"

He watched as Noah looked at him sadly, taking his hands. "Kurt, you're not fine."

The brunette felt tears stream down his face. "I'll get better, I'll, I'll stop. Please, please Noah, just tell them that I don't belong here. I'm begging you, _please._ You're the only one who understands!"

The room was quiet through the entire exchange and Burt felt overridden with guilt, but he knew that his son wasn't thinking rationally at the time.

"I-I'll be good…I'll eat….please…" he whispered, his voice breaking at the final word. "Noah…..please…"

Puck glanced at his friend, holding his hands close as he stared into his eyes.

"Kurt…you're going to get out of here. They're going to make you better, and then we're all going to be here for you…alright? You have to trust me that we all love you, so much, and we're going to help you."

Kurt closed his eyes, but nodded his head, much to the relief of everyone else in the room. "Okay…" he murmured softly, agreeing. "I'll get better."

Noah smiled, pressing a kiss to his hands. "You are going to get better, Kurt. I promise."

Kurt nodded his head, feeling overwrought with sadness as he lay back against the bed, closing his eyes as he let tears fall down his cheeks.

He was in the hospital.

He had a heart attack.

He was anorexic.

"I'm sorry…." He whispered to the room, shaking his head slowly. "I wanted to be everything that you wanted…" he murmured.

"Kurt….you're everything we want."

Kurt opened his eyes, hearing the meaning behind the words that Noah had whispered to him.

_You're everything I want._


	11. Reconstruction

**My mind has completely been sucked dry for the day, so the next chapter should be up tomorrow instead of tonight like I planned. It will be the final stage of the grieving process before things continue. Thank you for all the support and wonderful reviews, you all are amazing. -Insert Disclaimer-**

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Kurt looked up from where he was sitting in his bed, sketching out some clothing ideas on a drawing pad that his father had bought him. The doctor said that he should work on distracting himself or finding new ways to get out these feelings of wanting perfection. He glanced up when he heard the door open and smiles sadly when he saw Noah.

"Hello."

The jock smiled at him and placed down a tray of food in front of him. Kurt stared at it for a long time. "I can't eat that."

Puck sighed softly, staring at the other male before climbing into the bed, sitting cross legged opposite him. Kurt had taken to sitting Indian style in the hospital bed because he claimed it was the most uncomfortable thing in the world, Puck was starting to agree.

"Listen…Kurt. You _have_ to eat."

"I know I have to eat Noah….but…"

Puck stared at the boy in front of him, watching tears well up in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

Kurt looked up. "I can't eat in front of you!" he whispered, tears falling down his eyes. "I feel like everyone walking by is going to stare at me and think 'oh look, the whale is eating again'."

Puck stared at the boy, remembering what he read in the pamphlets about how people suffering from eating disorders may be shy to eat in front of others. He knew Kurt was self-conscious but he was supposed to be on strict watch to make sure he didn't try to get rid of his food once he ate it, or tried to hide it before there was even a chance.

He also remembered not to immediately go against Kurt and tell him that he was too skinny, or that he wasn't fat. He would already have an altered vision of himself.

The jock smiled sadly for a moment before looking at the plate of oatmeal in front of him, along with the slices of toasts and oranges. He thought for a long moment before taking a spoonful of the oatmeal. Kurt quickly shook his head, biting at his lip. "Noah, I ca-"

The words froze on his lips as he watched Noah take the spoonful of food and pop it into his own mouth, pulling the empty utensil out from his lips before swallowing. He stared in confusion for a long moment before taking the same amount of oatmeal onto the spoon and held it out to Kurt.

The brunette stared at the food for a long moment before opening his lips and taking the spoonful of oatmeal.

Puck grinned at him once more before taking another spoonful for himself, then the next for Kurt, continuing slowly until the bowl was emptied. He moved onto the pieces of toast, taking on for himself and one for Kurt, handing it to the boy.

Kurt remained silent before silently reaching for the bread, waiting until Noah took a bite before taking his own.

Puck slowly worked his way through the meal, sharing equal portions with Kurt before he gave him the juice to finish himself. Kurt breathed slowly, staring at him for a long time. This would normally be the time where he would want to run off and purge, get rid of every single calorie he just took in. He stared up at his friend, chewing at his lip.

"I-I don't know what to do." He whispered softly.

Puck stared sadly at the broken boy, watching his hands shake as if he were just wanting to reach up and press at his gag reflex. Noah rolled the tray away from the bed and returning back to look at Kurt. He knew exactly what the boy must be thinking and he held out his hands. "Give me your hand, palm up."

"W-what?" Kurt asked, looking up at him.

"Give me your hand." Puck spoke calmly.

Kurt stared at him before holding out his shaking hand to Puck, revealing his palm. "What are y-you going to…to do?"

Puck smiled at the boy and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to remember how his grandmother had taught it to him. He looked at the lines of his palm with a small smile, tracing a diagonal one directly under Kurt's fingers. "Do you see this line?"

Kurt nodded his head. "What one is it?" he murmured, interested and leaning forward a bit, careful of the wires that were still connected to his body.

"It's the heart line."

Kurt bit at his lip once more. "What does it do?"

"It shows the emotions of a person. The standard that you set for a loved one."

Kurt swallowed hard at this, trying to avoid looking into Noah's eyes. "What does it say about me?" he whispered softly.

"You see that line curving down from the heart line?" Kurt nodded and Noah continued. "It means that you're a people pleaser. You act the way that you expect others want you to be. You don't reveal your true feelings too often."

Kurt looked away to stare out the window. He knew that Noah could be making it up, but the words sounded like the truth, and they made sense to him. "What about the other ones?"

"Your headline shows that you are imaginative and may have a hard time concentrating."

Noah moved his hand towards the thumb, tracing his life line. "This line is your life line. Right now it's pretty faint and hard to see because your ill and it's stressful. You're facing a physical and emotional challenge."

"How did you learn all of this?" Kurt murmured.

"My nana was a palm reader, taught me everything I know." Puck grinned.

Kurt leaned forward even more, thoughts of purging all the way in the back of his mind. "Are there any more?" he asked interestedly.

Puck smiled, feeling proud of himself that he had gotten Kurt to eat, and now he was distracted from wanting to get rid of that food. "There's a bunch. Your marriage line is thick and long which means that you're destined to one lifelong marriage."

Kurt scoffed at this one, causing a raised eyebrow from Puck. "What's wrong."

"If you haven't noticed. I'm gay. I have an eating disorder. I'm not sure anyone's even interested in a _relationship_ with me."

Puck leaned forward, taking both of Kurt's hands in his own. "Listen, Kurt. You're healing, you're getting better. It's going to take time. But there are people who want you."

Kurt raised an eyebrow at him before staring down once more.

"Do you really think that I'll get better?"

"I _know_ you'll get better, Kurt. You're already working towards it. Sometimes, you're just going to need a distraction."

Kurt nodded his head, biting at his lip once more as Noah stared at the notion.

Puck had the urge to just lean forward and kiss the boy, but he couldn't put so much on his shoulders while he's still healing from something like this.

He promised himself when he got out that he'd ask Kurt on a date and show him how wonderful he really was. The jock leaned back forward, flipping over the brunette's hand and tracing another line.

"Here, let me tell you about the Girdle of Venus…"


	12. Acceptance

**My apologies for taking so long to get this chapter up! The stages of grief are passed and now we're moving to the stages of acceptance. Thanks all of you for standing by this story, I appreciate the reviews and kind words. -Insert Disclaimer-**

* * *

"I have a bone to pick with you."

Burt flinched at the harsh words coming from his wives lips but slowly turned around from his football game with a look of guilt. Carole took the remote from his hands before harshly pressing the off button, causing the screen to go black. Burt didn't even try to protest, the look on Carole's face enough for him to back down like a small child getting scolded. He waited in silence for her to speak.

"I want to know what in God's name possessed you to say what you did to Kurt."

Burt looks up at her in shock. He thought that this moment wouldn't come, he thought that he's shoved it all behind. But he knows that's a lie. He knows because Kurt refuses to let anyone but Noah, Finn, and Carole in the room. And Burt only knows that Finn's allowed in because he spent three hours telling Kurt what an awful brother he was to him and making promises that he would keep not matter what.

Burt wishes that he could get off that easily, but he knows he can't. He knows that he's made a mistake that can't be taken back no matter how many times that he tries. He remained silent as she stared down at him, he didn't have an answer.

"Now you listen to me Burt Hummel, and you listen good! Right now there is a scared little boy in that hospital and he needs his father. And you know what, he doesn't have one right now!" she spoke coldly, surprising Burt. "What you did to him was un forgivable. To say a thing like that, something so cruel and horrible that he was pushed so far off the edge that he's in the hospital."

"I didn't mean it."

"You wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it, Burt."

The older man looked up at her sadly. "He's gay, Carole. My son is a _queer."_

He did not expect the smack across his face, but suddenly his was holding his left cheek in pain, staring up at his wife in shock.

"Kurt may be gay, but he is your _son._ When he came into this world, he was When he came into this world, he was _yours._" She spoke. "Kurt is unique. Kurt is special. I'm sure that Elizabeth, rest her sweet soul, would be devastated by your behavior."

Burt stared at Carole, his mouth gaping open, even though he knew her words were true. His son _was_ special. He was amazing. And Kurt was his blood, he had raised that boy with his late wife and she had told him to accept him for who he was. Burt wasn't the high school jock anymore with a bad case of homophobia.

"Now I want you to know one thing. If you don't make this better, I will back up my bags, take the kids, and we will _leave."_

"You can't leave!"

"Do not think you can tell me what I can do, Burt Hummel! Now you make this better or consider your family gone!"

Burt watched as Carole grabbed her purse and made her way out the door. Burt held his head in his hands.

He had to make this right, and accept the fact that he messed up.

* * *

Kurt stared after his father, wiping away the tears that seemed to keep falling from his eyes. Noah walked in a few moments later, setting down a vase of flowers near the window before sitting down next to him. "Are you alright?"

Kurt blinked up at his friend, snuggling into his arms and sighing softly. "Yeah, I think so…"

"What about your old man?"

"He's…he's getting there." He whispered softly. "I just…I never thought that my dad of all people…"

Puck stared down at the boy, holding him as close as he could. "It's going to be alright, Kurt…he loves you, so much. He just wants to understand you."

Kurt smiles softly, nodding his head at him.

"You wanna hear something?"

"Sure…."

"Finn told me that Carole really chewed his ass out. Threatened to leave if he didn't get his head out of his ass."

Kurt stared for a moment before laughing out loud, burying his face in Noah's chest. "I adore that woman."

"I adore you too, Sweetie pie."

Kurt looked up, smiling as Carole walked into the room, holding his dinner on a tray before placing it on the rolling table. "I have your supper."

Kurt stared for a moment before chewing at his lip. "I'll eat in a moment; I have to go to the bathroom."

The two nodded as Kurt slowly got out of his bed, using the IV stand as support as he walked to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He immediately fell to his knees in front of the toilet, his finger finding his way down his throat immediately. He froze for a moment, snapping his fingers away from his mouth and pressing them to his side, staring at the porcelain toilet in front of him.

Was this really what he wanted? Is this what his life was going to be?

Kurt bit at his lip. He was about to start all over again. But he was just sick, right?

No.

Kurt stood up, staring at himself in the mirror and taking in a deep breath.

He _was_ sick. But not with a stomach virus.

Kurt met his dulled blue eyes in the mirror, controlling his breathing.

He had cut himself.

He was admitted to the hospital for a heart attack.

He had anorexia.

Kurt closed his eyes, hearing the truth of the words sting in his ears like a thousand sirens. He had a problem, but standing in the bathroom wasn't going to help him get over it. He was unhealthy. He was sick and needed to get better.

Turning towards the full length mirror made him feel weak and ashamed.

Where he had once saw fat, there was pale skin and bones.

The countertenor pulled open the door and met the gazes of Noah and Carole, both waiting for him.

"Are you alright, Kurt?"

The male shook his head, staring at the floor before looking back up.

"No, I'm not alright….but I'm getting there."

Puck smiled as the boy returned back to the bed. Kurt still had a long way to recovery. He had some demons to get rid of, and Puck promised to be there the entire way. But for now, he'd deal with sharing meals with Kurt. And he was proud of him already, seeing that the younger boy accepted that he had a problem and was seeking out help.

Puck had never been more in love.


	13. Recovery

**Hello, my name's Bree and I can't seem to listen to my brain when it tells me to stop writing at 2:30am. This chapter was stuck in my head for the longest time and I just had to type it out and post it for you wonderful readers who have been nothing but amazing throughout this entire fic. I hope you enjoy this personal favorite of mine. -Insert Disclaimer-**

* * *

For the first time in a long time, Kurt dreams about his mother. He's still seventeen years old. He's still thing and broken, bandaged and bruised. But his mother's sitting there, smiling at him as her finger's fly across the piano. The tune is something that he can't really remember, but it's familiar. Like a word on the tip of your tongue. Kurt finds himself standing still, running his hand over his bandaged wrists nervously. Although he knows this is a dream, it all feels so real.

His mom looks up at him, and Kurt's startled to see that they have the same eyes, although hers are bright and clear, while his are dull and glazed over from the drugs that are being pumped into his body. He takes slow steps towards her until they're sitting together on the piano bench, playing the familiar tune.

Neither Hummel says a word as they play together. Kurt compares the way their hands look. While hers are pale and smooth, his have a bluish tiny to them, covered in bruises and dried from sticking his fingers down his throat. His mother seems to notice his scrutinizing for she takes his hand in her own warm ones and kisses his hands. Kurt watches in silence as the skin that connected with her lips returns to normal, spreading like a ripple in the water.

He glances up at his mother, taking in the long flowing brunette curls, her sharp facial features and those same eyes that he sees in the mirror. His mother is gorgeous. And he just wishes that they were curled together on the couch, watching old Disney movies on the VCR player. He watched as his skin slowly turns a rosier tone, still spreading from the kiss mark on his hand. He feels better, almost elated with happiness.

"You're strong baby, so strong. And I'm so proud of you for pushing through this."

Kurt stares down at her hands, finding he can't look his mother in the eye without feeling guilt and regret. "I'm sorry I disappointed you, mommy."

Elizabeth shakes her head and Kurt feels his chin being grasped in her warm fingers. "I will never be disappointed in you baby. You just work on getting yourself healthy again, give me another reason to be proud of my son."

Kurt looks up at her, connecting their eyes. "I'm gay, mom."

She smiles that kind smile that reminds Kurt of summer before pressing a cheek to his forehead. "I know sweetie. And you be whatever you were born to be."

Kurt feels tears in his eyes. He misses his mother so much it hurts. He watches as she stands, her white sundress pillowing around her knees, curls shining in the light. "I love you, Kurt."

The countertenor smiles and hugs his mother. "I love you too, mom."

Elizabeth smiles once more before pulling away. "Now let me go give your father a stern talking to."

Kurt laughs out loud, feeling a weight off of his shoulders.

When he awakes, there is a huge smile plastered on his face, and he snuggles closer to Noah. He knows that everything is going to be just fine.

At the Hudmel home, Burt wakes up screaming from the wrath of his late wives words of disappointment and anger. He knows he won't be getting any more sleep tonight.

* * *

Kurt literally thinks that he's going to break into a million pieces if Noah doesn't let go of him in a second, but he's laughing out loud, his head thrown back as the jock spins him around.

He still feels that wave of sickness in himself, the wave of disgust. But when he sees Noah and Carole's faces, he reminds himself that this is a good thing. That even though he feels like the scale should be buckling over, he knows deep in his mind that it's the opposite. That the scale should be moving more. But Kurt smiles to himself. He feels pride in himself when he sees the pride in the two faces in the room.

The doctor is smiling at him and writing down something in his ever present chart, but Kurt can't beat to spare more than a glance before he's staring back at the numbers on the scale.

He finally reached triple digits of 108 pounds.

He knows that it shouldn't be much. That it should be terrifying. But he knows that it's better than where he was before. He knows that he's healthy.

And if he can see that look on Noah's face every time he gains a pound?

He'll happily work hard on it.

* * *

After the celebration, Kurt's tired. He's still weak from the disorder and the heart attack, so they don't plan on letting him go until he's at least 115, they say 120 would be best. Finn is currently sitting at the table in Kurt's room, scarfing down one of the three burgers that he bought and a side of fries. Kurt has no idea how the teen snuck McDonald's into a hospital, but he did.

The three are watching a program on television that they have no real interest in when Kurt finally turns to Finn. "Do you think I can have one of your burgers?"

Both of the jocks stop midsentence to stare at him. The most Kurt had really wanted to eat was oatmeal and soup or fruit.

Finn is out of his seat, pushing the rolling tray towards him where a burger and half of his fries sits in front of Kurt.

The countertenor picks up the rather large burger, taking a tentative bite and smiling happily as he feels the flavor on his tongue. He knows that it's completely loaded with calories and grease. But it's honestly the best thing he's tasted in a long time. They all sit content while Kurt and Finn eat.

Kurt glances over at his stepbrother, who smiles at him happily. "Thank you, Finn." He speaks after a few moments.

Finn looks like he's be wagging his tail if he had one by the way that his eyes light up, but he grins none-the-less.

When Carole walks in later that night, she finds three empty burger wrappers on Kurt's tray and several surrounding Noah and Finn.

She smiles to herself as she picks up the mess but spares a glance at the three boys.

She's never treasured her family more.


	14. We'll Figure It Out

**Thank you all for being so patient and giving such wonderful reviews. You're all seriously wonderful. I hope you enjoy the next chapter! -Insert Disclaimer-**

* * *

Kurt smiles softly to himself as he feels the warm water run of his skin. It's the first time he's been allowed to take something other than a sponge bath, and he refuses to let it go unheeded. The feel of cheap hospital shampoo and scratchy washcloths that he would normally hate feels like heaven to him. He ignores the fact that he can feel his ribs so easily and continues to rinse the soap from his body. It's when he turns around and falls on the hard tile that he realizes he should have gotten help earlier.

He hisses in pain as his ankle twists and his hip smacks hard with the tile. He hates that he bruises easily and suddenly wishes he had the fat to break the fall. He winces as he tries to stand, but he knows that he's too weak. He bites at his lip and leans back against the shower wall, letting the slowly cooling water smack his body until he's shivering.

Relief floods through him when he hears the door opening, hoping it's the nurse or Carole. Although the second he hears his name called out his relief turns to nausea and embarrassment. He knows that he needs help or he's going to freeze and get even more hurt.

"Noah! I need your help!"

Kurt hears the bathroom door slam open so fast he has to laugh. He heard Noah's voice behind the curtain of the shower and can see his feet from where the fabric doesn't quite meet the floor. "What happened?" he asks.

"I slid and fell….I can't get up. It hurts."

The shower curtain is suddenly pulled open, and then Noah's there, pulling his wet, shivering form close to his warm one and hold him close, wrapping a towel around his backside as he turns the water off. "You should've asked for help, Kurt." He murmurs softly as he shuffles the boy towards his bed.

Kurt can't respond because all he can think about is his naked form pressed against the other boys.

Puck notices this and averts his gaze while Kurt sits on his bed and dries off before pulling his pajamas on carefully. He had wanted nothing more than to kiss the small brunette. But that was not where he planned to have his first kiss with Kurt be. Not while he was recovering in a hospital.

But Puck has to say _something_ to the smaller male, or he's going to go completely insane. Puck turns around, opening his mouth to speak but stops when he sees the small boy, snuggled under his blankets and fast asleep. He doesn't have the heart to wake him, but he does press a soft kiss to his forehead before exiting the room to go call Finn with the update.

Kurt stares after the door for a long time, his forehead tingling from the kiss as he raises his hand to the spot where Noah's lips were a few moments ago.

When he feels his heart flutter this time, he knows it's not from something being wrong.

He's thinking that everything is going right.

* * *

"Did you pick up his iron tablets and vitamins from downstairs?"

"Yes, Puck."

"What about the food list his doctor said he made for us?"

"Got it."

"And his prescription for his heart?"

"Puck! Dude, chill. I picked it all up and am heading to your floor right now."

Puck groans to himself but finds himself agreeing before hanging up on his best friend. Kurt stares at him, an eyebrow raised and the jock can't help but grin when he sees Kurt wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a long sleeved shirt. He notices that the clothes are still a little baggy, but Kurt's gotten so far that it's only a matter of time before he's normal eight again.

Kurt smiles up at him, struggling slightly with his small bag and Puck takes it from him easily, earning another smile. "The doctors say I'm currently at one twenty three. They say the goal weight for someone my age and height is about one thirty six to one eighty."

Puck nods his head and quickly calculates the number in his head. "Fourteen pounds until you're out of the danger zone." Puck grins, receiving an excited nod from the countertenor.

"Surprised you didn't gain fifty pounds from the three burger's you scarfed the other night."

Kurt freezes up and Puck has never hated the Frankenteen more in his life. He glances up to where Finn seems to have appeared out of nowhere, holding the prescription bags in his hand. Finn seems to realize what he's just said when he sees how pale and frozen Kurt is.

"Woah, I didn't mean it like that, dude. You're totally too skinny. You should eat more burgers to gain the weight."

Puck is seriously going to punch his friend in the face if he doesn't shut the hell up. He gets distracted when Kurt's shaky hands cover his mouth and he runs towards the bathroom after muttering the words; 'I'm gonna be sick.'

Puck turns to glare at his friend before realizing just how bad it would be if Kurt really did get sick. "Nice job you idiot!" he hisses.

"I'll go take care of it." Finn speaks quickly before racing after the boy.

He had forgotten all about what his mother said about eating disorders and ended up doing the exact thing she told him not to. Finn's not the brightest, but he's not stupid. He knows that if Kurt ends up throwing up he'll get addicted and all of Kurt's hard work will be worthless.

He finds the boy kneeling in front of the toilet, tears streaming down his face. The small boy looks up at him and shakes his head. "I don't know what to do." He whispers.

Finn just shakes his head and kneels down, pulling his devastatingly thin step-brother into his arms, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of his head. "It's okay Kurt…neither do I….but we'll figure it out, alright?"

Kurt just continues to sob into his chest.

"We'll figure it out together, Kurt." Finn whispers, holding the healing boy close, promising to never let him get like this ever again.


	15. Coming Home

**I always find myself staying up later than I want to so I can write another chapter. But I rather enjoy this one because I love brother bonding and comforting. Thanks to all of you for reviewing! -Insert Disclaimer-**

* * *

"-Honestly don't know why they bothered helping the little queer-"

"-God _wanted_ him to die-"

"-Should've just taken him off the life support while he was in the coma-"

"-Would've saved a lot of trouble-"

Kurt stares, his eyes wide and bright with unshed tears as he listens in on the discussion at the nurses' station. He chances a glance to see three male doctors, standing at the counter, discussing about the boy in room three fifteen. His room. Were these really tmen who had taken care of him with such kindness? He bit at his lip, watching as Finn rounded the corner, about to call him out when Kurt held a finger to his own lips, causing the tall male to bolt into the room with him silently.

"What's going on?" Finn whispered quietly in his ear. Kurt shook his head, gesturing towards the nurses' station once more.

"-step-brother-"

"-how can they even bare to _touch it?-_"

"-I wore gloves the entire time-"

"-Should've slipped arsenic in the intravenous-"

"-fag should've died-"

Kurt leans against the wall, slowly trying to calm himself down. When his breathing is normal and he's sure he's not going to cry, he opens his eyes again. Only to see Finn's back retreating. He tries to call out but it's too late and his step-brother is towering over the three doctors. The men smile up at kindly. "Something you need, sir?"

"What did you just call my brother?"

The men all freeze up for a moment before one places his hand on Finn's arm. "I know how hard it must be to have to live with such an abomination…"

Kurt watches with wide eyes horror as Finn smacks the man's hand away and literally _growls._

"There is nothing wrong with my brother! Not one damn thing! All three of you are nothing but homophobic idiots!"

"Your brother is a _sinner!_ He should be punished for what he is!"

"What about lesbianism?" Finn asks. The doctors gape at him in confusion.

"What about it?"

"Do you have a problem with two chicks getting it on?"

"No, of course not." One of the doctors speaks, eyeing Finn warily.

"You're hypocrites! They're the same thing! You're just so scared of something that you don't understand! Did it ever occur to you that no one has a damn choice! I've done some pretty messed up and cruel things in my life, but I wouldn't wish death on _anyone!_ Especially for something they can't control!"

Kurt's crying now as he watches his brother yell, causing a scene in the hall that has Kurt blushing like crazy.

"Sir, we can help your brother, there's a wonderful camp-"

Kurt's almost positive that Finn would have punched the man if his own doctor hadn't shown up, staring at his colleagues in shock. "Please tell me that I didn't hear those words from your mouths."

The three doctors stare in shock before quickly shaking their heads, about to explain.

"Get back to work."

Kurt stares as his doctor apologizes to Finn, but the tall teen just nods his head quickly before making his way towards Kurt and pulling him into the tightest, yet still gentle, hug. "Don't listen to them, Kurt. You're awesome. There's nothing wrong with you. And I'm sorry that I didn't realize that sooner."

Kurt finds himself sobbing in Finn's arms once more, but he's hugging that Wal-Mart clad teen close fisting Finn's shirt in his hand. "Thank you."

"You're my bro, Kurt. I'm always going to stand up for you."

"I love you." Kurt blurts out before biting his lip. "In a completely platonic way and-"

He's cut off by another squeezing hug from the large teen. "I love you too." Finn whispers.

* * *

Kurt's sitting his room after being discharged a few hours ago. Right now he's just relaxing on his bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to tune out what his father is screaming into the phone. Finn had informed Burt about what he had overheard and what had happened. Burt had turned pale, then red, ordering the boys to their rooms while dialing a number on his phone. The screaming started soon after.

That was two hours ago.

A knock on his door shakes him from his thoughts and he calls that it's open, too comfortable for his own good to get up. He smiles when Carole walks into the room with a tray, closing the door to dull Burt's screams of anger from downstairs. "Seems like the bear has been let lose." She smiles sadly.

Kurt chuckles and sits up, eying the steaming soup. Carole sets it in front of him and Kurt's heart almost leaps out of his chest when he sees that it's Broccoli Cheddar, something he hadn't had in almost a year, but it was his favorite.

"I'm sorry for what they said to you, Kurt." Carole finally speaks when the boy doesn't take a move to eat.

"It's alright."

"It's not alright, sweetie. You don't deserve that. You're a wonderful young man."

Kurt smiles at her. "Thank you." He whispers, and the two know that they don't have to go into detail. They have a mutual understanding.

Kurt stares at the soup now, he wants to eat it. But he's still so uncomfortable with eating in front of others or eating alone. As if by a godsend, (or preferably, Tinkerbelle), Puck strides into the room, two trays in his hand followed by Finn carrying one of his own.

Puck hands a tray with a bowl of soup to Carole and everyone takes a seat. Carole sits at the vanity while Finn sits at his desk; Puck joins Kurt on the bed, the two of them sitting cross-legged with trays on their laps.

"You don't have to do this…" Kurt whispers softly.

Puck just smiles and takes a spoonful of soup, waiting for Kurt to mimic the motion until he has the countertenor eating once more in time with him.

They don't discuss what the doctors said, or how Burt's been screaming into the phone for almost three hours. They don't talk about how Kurt's still dependent on Puck to help him get through the simple task of eating a meal.

Instead they just talk about whatever pops into their heads, tell jokes, and laugh.

Kurt talks about wanting a golden retriever while Puck casually wipes a smear of soup from the corner of his lips before licking it off of his thumb, leaving Kurt flushed and smiling slightly.

No one talks about that either.


	16. Cookbooks and Post It's

**I kind of loved writing this chapter. And the new name was actually completely by coincidence. It popped into my mind and I typed it into google to get the proper spelling and Bam! Wicked. I kind of love my brain right now. Thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing, and I really really hope you like this chapter as much as I loved writing it. -Insert Disclaimer-**

* * *

Kurt just really wants to keep his eyes closed and remain in his warm, fluffy bed for the rest of his day. But there is some really annoying weight on his chest and a warm tongue running down his cheek. The first thing he thinks is, 'Woah, wet dream much?' But when he opens his eyes he nearly screeches in happiness before sitting up so fast he gets dizzy. The countertenor pulls the panting, golden flush to his chest carefully and smiles as the puppy licks at his face once more.

"Oh my gaga!" he yells out, looking around to see Noah grinning as he leans against Kurt's desk, while Burt and Carole race to the door from their sons yell. Kurt's still sitting up on his bed, his eyes wide and happy as he pets the smiling pup, who is currently circling the male on his bed. Kurt follows the movements, completely engrossed in the animal's movements.

"Is it mine?" he finally asks once the puppy curls into his crossed legs.

Puck smirks and saunters over towards him while Burt and Carole remember the discussion with Puck earlier and realize that he is just giving Kurt the present he had asked them about. The two leave with once they are assured that Kurt isn't being murdered in his room while Puck sits across from Kurt on the bed. "Yeah, he's yours."

Kurt stares at the small animal before looking back up at Noah. Before he knows it he's shooting across the bed, mindful of the pup before his lips are smashed against the jocks. Puck is in shock for a moment before wrapping his arms around Kurt and bringing him flush against his chest once the puppy moves off of Kurt's lap.

The countertenor wraps his arms around Noah's neck and all he can think about is how damn right this entire situation feels and he wants _more _of the other male. He's gripping his thin fingers in Noah's mohawk while the jock runs his hands down Kurt's side, feeling the ribs under the fabric like keys on a piano.

When the two finally pull away they stare for a long time. Kurt's the first to speak as he blushes bright.

"I'm sorry, I don't know where that came fr-"

Puck leans forward and kisses Kurt once more. "Be my boyfriend?"

Kurt stares for a moment before giggling. "We haven't even gone on a date! And aren't you straight?"

Puck shakes his head. "Dates are to get to know each other. I'm pretty sure we got that down. And I'm bi, if you really want to label it."

Kurt stares at him for a long time before the pup barks and Kurt is reminded why he attacked Noah in the first place.

"Okay." He grins, nodding his head. "I'll be your boyfriend."

* * *

"Fiyero!" Kurt calls, shaking the food bag and waiting until he hears the puppy yapping and running towards him happily, his paws skidding on the tile floor as he stops at Kurt's feet. The brunette smiles happily and fills the puppies small food bowl before sliding down next to him and watches him eat. Kurt places his own bowl of cereal on his lap and spoons it into his mouth, watching as the puppy eats.

He can't help but feel enlightened as he watched the animal eat. He knows that if he continues to take care of him and feed him that Fiyero will grow to be strong and healthy. What he doesn't know is that he's subconsciously comparing the puppy to himself.

Carole walks into the kitchen to find Kurt sitting on the floor, and for a moment she thinks he's fallen again, but then she notices that he's _eating_ on his own. He's not matching bites with Noah or even Fiyero. He's doing it all on his own and he doesn't even seem to notice what he's doing.

She smiles and kneels down next to her son, pulling him close without spilling his cereal. "You're so strong Kurt," she whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "so strong."

Kurt blushes but smiles and curls into the woman's arms as they both watch the dog fill its small stomach until Fiyero is rolling around on the floor, exposing its bloated tummy to him and Kurt pets at the pink skin under the thin golden fur contently.

* * *

Burt walks down the stairs half an hour later when he hears loud laughter coming from the kitchen. He walks into the room and can't help but stare for a few moments. Kurt currently is snuggled up against Noah, and woah, when did _that _happen? Finn is glancing at the two boys every few moments but there is a small smile on his lips when he notices the way Kurt blushes and grins when Noah sneaks a kiss on his forehead or cheek.

Kurt is throwing squeaky toys for Fiyero, who barks and catches it before returning it proudly to his owner, awarding him with a broken up piece of a dog biscuit. Kurt himself is leisurely reaching into a bowl of popcorn and eating it himself.

Carole has a cookbook in front of her and every so often Kurt will point to something that he likes and she'll mark the page with a purple post it, then Finn will point and she's mark it with green. Puck is finally pulled into the game and his selections are marked with blue. Burt notices pink ones along the mix in the large cookbook.

He can't help but feel a small pain in his chest as he looks at his family, scattered across the floor and laughing carelessly. Kurt's eating and smiling and looks so much healthier, almost as if none of what had happened was real. Except for the thin frame on the boy. He swallows, knowing that he messed up with his son, and now they are laughing and singing and marking pages in a cookbook without him.

He made a large mistake with his boy and wishes that he could take it back.

When Kurt glances up and catches his eye, there is silence between the two before Kurt breaks into a small smile. "You want to join us, dad?"

Burt feels his heart swell and he nods his head before taking a place on the floor and watching the pup run back and forth.

Soon there are orange post it notes in the cookbook to join the rest of the colors.


	17. Relapse

**Thanks for waiting for the newest chapter everyone! I really hope you like this one! -Insert Disclaimer-**

* * *

Kurt's just getting ready to make himself breakfast when he walks past Finn's room and hears the words. "-such a fat ass."

His steps completely freeze for a moment as he stares at the closed door. Are they talking about him? He bites at his lip, shivering softly before staring back towards the kitchen where he was heading. Fiyero trots happily up to him and he follows the pup into the kitchen to give the animal his breakfast. Kurt stares at the cabinets full of food for a long time before turning and walking away.

When his stomach grumbles later on that day, Noah stares at him in worry. "Want me to make you something?"

Kurt shakes his head and gives him a small smile. "Not really hungry. I had a lot for breakfast."

Puck can feel that something's wrong, but he just smiles back and nods at his boyfriend, pulling him close to his side as Fiyero jumps onto his lap.

He has a feeling that he may regret it later on.

* * *

Carole's on the phone talking to her sister when she hears a retching sound coming from upstairs. She tells the woman goodbye and makes her way up the stairs, passing Burt passed out in his seat and hearing the angry shouts from the basement as Finn and Puck play some video game that involves gore and guns. She pauses at Kurt's door and hears the retching once more.

She pulls the door open and makes her way to the bathroom to find Kurt on his knees in front of the toilet bowl, fingers forced down his throat.

"Oh honey, no." she whispers softly, kneeling down next to the small boy and flushing the evidence down. Kurt's staring at her in shock, glancing between his hands and the toilet as if he doesn't know what just happened. Carole feels even worse.

How long was this going on that he could end up in the bathroom completely unaware?

Kurt shivers and shakes before falling into Carole's arms, sobbing into her shirt.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry." He cries, repeating the two words over and over until they eventually form into one sentence. Carole coos softly and rubs his back feeling her chest tighten at the broken boy in her arms. This was the last thing that she wanted to see happen, and she wondered what had set the boy off.

"It's okay sweetie, it's going to be okay." She whispers into his hair, still rubbing circles on his back while Kurt sobs and whimpers.

"Don't hate me mom, please, please don't hate me." He sobs.

Carole wants to feel ecstatic that Kurt called her mom for the first time ever. But she can't, because Kurt is still sobbing and asking his mother not to hate him for something that he really can't control with his mental state.

"I could never hate you sweetie, never."

Eventually, Kurt's sobs lead Puck and Finn up to the room. The two stand in the doorway before Puck comes rushing in and gathers Kurt in his arms. The brunette is shaking and gripping at Puck's t-shirt. Carole whispers what happen and watches the pain and shock flitter across the jocks face before he turns serious once more and holds the boy tighter.

"Kurt, babe? What happened?"

Kurt chews at his lip and shakes his head, burrowing closer. "I-I heard you….i-in Finn's r-room…"

Puck and Finn glance at each other before their eyes widen at the same time and Puck bites at his lip. "Kurt! We weren't talking about you! Finn and I were messing around with each other, teasing!"

Finn feels suddenly horrible, knowing that with Kurt's mental state, words like those were not the best thing to be saying.

"Do you guys hate me?"

The words are a whisper, almost unable to be heard, but Puck can hear them.

"No, no way Kurt. No one hates you. None of us hate you."

Kurt's tears are slowly starting to stop as Puck carries the boy to his bed before reaching into the side table drawer and pulling out a bottle of Prozac. He had hoped that they wouldn't have to use it since Kurt had been doing so well. But the doctor had given it to them in case of a relapse.

Kurt's already curling himself into the blankets and his eyes are falling shut as Fiyero hops up onto the bed and snuggles next to him. Kurt's arms instinctively wrap around the puppy as Puck pushes the pills through Kurt's lips before pressing a bottle of water against them after. Kurt swallows them and his eyes flutter open for one more moment to look at the three concerned family members.

"I'm sorry…." He whispers, falling asleep as Puck wipes the tear from his cheek.

* * *

"What are we supposed to do?" Finn asks defeated as the four sat at the kitchen table while Kurt slept. After hearing what happened, Burt felt defeated. Just when he thought that things were getting better, Kurt ended up having a relapse. But now wasn't the time that they should give up.

"We continue with what we were doing. We help him." Burt spoke, watching as Puck nodded his head and joined in.

"A relapse is just a chink in some armor. It can be patched up. We promised ourselves to help Kurt out, and just because a mistake happened doesn't mean we give up. It's gonna suck, but Kurt's special…to all of us…"

Burt could have sworn he saw a pink flush to the mohawked boys cheeks but he decided to ignore it, while at the same time deciding that Puck was good for Kurt.

Carole finally seemed to nod her head and add her own words. "We have to make sure that he knows we don't hate him. That's what he was so scared of when I found him."

Finn smiled sadly. "We can help, right? I mean, watching the comments and helping him learn that gaining the weight and eating is a good thing, right?"

"Right…."

The four twisted in their seats to see Kurt standing, holding a sleeping Fiyero in his thin arms. "I'm sorry I messed up…." He whispered, cutting in before the others could, "But I'm trying…I'm trying really really hard…so don't give up on me, okay?" he spoke, staring at the floor.

Burt stood, walking over to his son and pulling him close, careful with the animal between them. "We'll never give up on you."

Kurt smiles softly, nodding his head and wiping away his tears. "I love you daddy."

Burt smiled, feeling a weight lifted off of his shoulders as he held his crying son. "I love you too, Kurt. I love you too."


	18. Fiyero

**Sorry about taking so long to update! But thanks to everyone so much for sticking through with me. There are only two chapters left before this is over, I honestly can't believe it! And I thank you all so much for your support! Seriously! Over one hundred reviews! That's just awesome! You all are fantastic! -Insert Disclaimer-**

* * *

"Noah!"

The mohawked teen shot up so fast he didn't even know what hit him. Soon he was bolting up the stairs like a madman and bursting into Kurt's room, nearly taking the door off of its hinges.

"Kurt? What's wrong? What happened?" he asked quickly, looking around to find his boyfriend on the bathroom floor. He shook his head, running forward before noticing that Kurt was sobbing over Fiyero's small body, unnaturally still. Kurt looked up and noticed the half empty Prozac bottle.

"I…I was just taking my dose and- and I stepped away for a second! He-he got into the bottle and ate half of them and now he's not moving! He's not moving Noah!" he sobbed out, wrapping his arms around the small puppy in his arms.

"Kurt…" Noah spoke softly, walking towards the lifeless animal. "Fiyero doesn't look to great…"

"NO!" he screamed, turning to the jock and causing Puck to nearly fall back. "He's not dead! Noah, he can't be dead! He's _mine!_ I was taking care of him! He was _my dog!_ He can't die! Noah! You have to help him! _Please! Help me!"_

Puck bit his lip, watching the tears stream down Kurt's cheeks. The small boy looked so lost and broken and _petrified_ for the small animal. He nodded his head before scoopng Kurt into his arms and bolting down the stairs and to his truck, almost throwing the two into the passenger seat before booking it towards the nearest veterinary clinic. He carefully snatched the dog after they pulled in and bolted into the hospital, Kurt following suite. He held out the small animal that fit perfectly in his two large hands. "You have to help him." He spoke calmly.

The doctor nodded, quickly bringing the animal back as Puck spewed out everything that he knew. When the jock returned, Kurt was sitting in the empty room towards the front, staring at his hands.

"Kurt?" he asked softly, walking towards him and kneeling in front of the male.

"I killed him." Kurt whispered. "He was mine and I was supposed to be taking care of him and I killed him."

"Kurt, it's not your fault. You have to know that! Puppies will get into things, and he just happened to get into the bottle. None of this is your fault."

"We were growing together! You guys told me that I could take care of him and we'd both get better! I _killed_ him Noah! Just like I was killing myself!" he cried, wiping at his tears. "I'm such a screw up!" he sobbed.

Puck bit at his lip before pulling Kurt close to him. "Listen, Kurt." The small boy shook his head as he sobbed but he just continued. "Fiyero will be alright. The both of you are going to be just fine. Okay? Do you trust me?"

Kurt looked up slowly before nodding his head sheepishly. "I trust you." He whispered softly, chewing at his lip.

"Good. Because I trust you. And I know that you're going to get better. And that Fiyero is going to get better."

Kurt smiled sadly and nodded his head, staring at the floor for a while.

And when he heard a familiar yapping an hour later, he had to smile as he looked at Puck.

"Told you." The jock grinned.

* * *

"Fiyero, come on baby. Just a tiny bit…" Kurt sighed softly, watching as the dog turned its face once more from the food he was offering. The brunette sat back with another sigh, running his finger's along Fiyero's side, feeling the ribs easily of the small animal.

Carole walked in to find her stepson like that, sighing softly and sitting down next to him. "What's wrong sweetie?"

"Fiyero won't eat…" Kurt spoke quietly.

"He had to get his stomach pumped honey, maybe he just isn't ready."

"It's been almost a week and he refuses everything but water. He's going to get sick…." Kurt whispered softly, stroking the puppy's dull fur. "I don't want him to die, Carole….I don't know what to do."

Carole sighed softly and pulled Kurt close to her. "I know the feeling."

Kurt looked up to meet her warm brown eyes, full of love and concern, but a brightness that showed she knew exactly what she was talking about. "I'm sorry for ever putting you guys through that." Kurt spoke softly after a few moments.

The elder woman just shook her head and pulled him even closer. "There's not need to apologize, Kurtie, you know that. Sometimes we just can't take it anymore, and we crack under pressure. It happens to everyone. The only thing that matters is you keep going, you stay strong, and you take the help that's offered to you."

Kurt bit at his lip as he stared down at the dog, lying on the tile floor and staring at nothing but Kurt's hands. "I'm starting to think that we have more in common than I thought." He spoke, gesturing to the dog, holding back the tears that came during Carole's words.

The woman smiled before looking at him. "How did you learn to eat again?"

The countertenor looked up at her, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know…Noah just came in and started eating with me, and I matched everything to him…."

"Maybe you should try that with Fiyero?"

Kurt looked at the woman before nodding, pouring some of the dog kibble into a little bowl and pouring himself some cocoa puffs that looked pretty similar. He lay on his stomach in front of Fiyero and smiled at the puppy, cooing his name softly. "Look, Fiyero. Look at daddy eating." He spoke softly, popping some of the cereal between his lips.

The puppy stared at him and only continued to lie there, but Kurt wasn't deterred. "Look baby, look." He cooed softly, eating more of the cereal before the small animal slowly made its way towards him and ate a few of the pieces out of the bowl. Kurt continued to eat his own with the puppy until both the bowls were empty.

"He's smart." Carole spoke after a long moment.

Kurt smiled up at her. "It worked."

"Sometimes all you need is a little push."

Kurt grinned as Carole made her way out of the kitchen and the thin boy turned back to the dog, clearing out the bowls and holding Fiyero in his arm as he walked around the kitchen.

"How's the mutt?" Puck asked as he wandered in.

Kurt turned around, looking offended. "Fiyero is not a _mutt!"_ he growled, turning back to the dog and cooing softly. "No you're not, you're a little cutie pie. Noh Noh's the mutt, huh? Yes he is!"

Puck raised a brow at the baby voice and took a few steps forward. "I'm a mutt now? Is this Lady and the Tramp now or something?" he smirked.

Kurt stuck out his tongue. "You be nice to Fiyero. He's still healing."

Puck smiled, wondering if Kurt really knew how much the two were alike, even if they were nothing near the same. "I know he is." The jock spoke, taking a few steps closer to the boy and pulling him carefully to his chest. "He's doing a great job too."

Kurt bit at his lip, catching that Noah really wasn't talking about the dog. He looked back up at his boyfriend, pressing a small kiss to his lips. "I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow for a weigh in….will you come with me?" he spoke softly, nervously.

Puck grinned, returning the kiss happily. "Of course I will." He spoke, petting at Fiyero's head. "Gotta make sure the mutt's owner is happy." He teased.

Kurt huffed and rolled his eyes. "You're a Neanderthal."

"And you're beautiful."

Kurt blushed and hit him softly before rising on his tip toes to snuggle close into his arms. "Thank you." He whispered softly.

"For what?"

"Everything."


	19. Transfer

**One chapter left guys! I still don't know how I managed to write this after that amazing spectacular Klaine kiss! Thanks for sticking through this and being patient! -Insert Disclaimer-**

* * *

Kurt looked up from where he was sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine while a cake baked in the oven. He heard Fiyero's giddy barking and soon had the puppy on his lap, licking at his arm happily, cleaning off the batter. He couldn't help but smirk when he saw Noah hanging up the leash, covered in what looked like mud and dirt. He pressed his fist to his lips to try and hide his laughter, but the jock could still see it, glaring halfheartedly at the other.

"What happened?" Kurt asked innocently.

"That little mutant dog pulled me into a frigging mud pile!" he growled at the animal, who returned the gesture, causing more laughter from Kurt.

"He is not a mutant dog!" the countertenor protested, rolling his eyes as he stood and walked towards Noah. "Come upstairs, we'll get you cleaned up." He smiled.

Noah raised an eyebrow at him with a teasing leer. "Are you gonna clean me up?" he smirked.

"Only if you're a good boy." Kurt retorted, shocking Noah to silence.

The jock sighed as he sat down at Kurt's vanity, watching as the male pulled off his shirt and folded it neatly before putting it on top of the hamper. He proceeded to grab multiple moist towelettes to clean the mud off of his skin.

"I'm really regretting buying that dog for you." He grumbled as Kurt scrubbed gently at a smudge across his cheek.

"Now you don't mean that. I watch the way you slip Fiyero your dinner scraps." Kurt smirked, wiping at the mud until it was cleaned away.

Puck turned a light shade of pink and averted his gaze from the other male. "Oh shut up." He teased.

Kurt just grinned as he brought the other into his bathroom and ducked his head under the sink, washing the mud from his mohawk before the taller male stood back up, allowing Kurt to dry him off. He spared a glance over at the scale on the floor before looking back at his boyfriend. "Can I weigh you?"

The countertenor froze what he was doing, the towel dropping to the floor as he stared at his boyfriend. "W-weigh me?" he whispered softly.

Puck leaned down to kiss his lips sweetly. "Kurt, there's nothing to be afraid of. The number on that scale won't change who you are."

Kurt bit at his lip before nodding his head and pulling the digital scale out and stepping on top of it, closing his eyes tight.

* * *

Noah pulled his hands back from his lover's eyes and smirked at Kurt's face, that morphed from confusion to laughter.

"Happy One Thirty Fifth." He read aloud from the large cake in front of him, watching the candles flicker. "You know they probably thought it was a birthday cake for some seriously old grandpa." Kurt chuckled.

"Just blow out your candles and make a wish." Puck smirked.

The brunette moved forward and blew out the flickering candles with a smile. He couldn't believe the other seriously got him a cake for reaching 135 pounds.

Kurt thought that he would freak out. That he would cry and have another relapse. And sure he wasn't exactly ecstatic about being his current weight, but he was also happy that he was out of the danger zone. That he was safer and happy and everyone just looked so proud of him that he could absolutely cry. He bit at his lip and grinned, cutting the cake into slices so happily and easily, even going so far as to cut himself a larger one. When they were all finally seated around the table, eating quietly he looked up.

"I want to go back to McKinley."

Everyone was silent for a moment until Burt spoke up. "Are you positive about that, Kurt? You've been through a huge trauma and I don't want you to have to go through it all over again."

Kurt just smiled at him, licking the icing from his fork. "I want to go back. I'm healthy and happy and….I really miss my friends."

Burt looked up at his son, smiling as he watched Puckerman wipe off a smear of icing from the side of his mouth and how Kurt beamed. He realized that Kurt needed his friends, and that maybe if he hadn't made a mistake, maybe if Kurt wasn't under the pressure to be so perfect, none of this would have happened. But there was no going back now, and Burt had to do everything he could to make sure his son was happy.

"I'll call the school tonight." He grinned.

* * *

Kurt grumbled softly as he felt a warm body snuggled against his back and he rolled over, curling into Noah's chest. "You know, we moved half of your stuff to the guest room for a reason." He teased, breathing in the scent that was Axe and musk and something so completely _Noah_.

"I know they did, but I was lonely."

Kurt chuckled and curled around him. "When did you become so needy?" he teased.

Puck was silent for a moment before kissing his forehead. "I'm so proud of you." He whispered softly. "You're so strong and great and I'm so happy that you could overcome this."

Kurt looked up at him. "It's still hard….to be happy when my mental image is still so screwed up."

"Well, you have all of us to knock some sense back into you. And soon you'll have all of New D. with you as well." He grinned.

Kurt beamed back at him before squeaking as Noah flipped them over so that the jock was straddling the smaller boy. Kurt giggled and ran his hands through his hair and arms, leaning up to kiss him. Puck whimpered, (which he would deny if anyone ever asked) as Kurt's lips met his neck and he pulled the boy close, fingers dangling above the hemline before a bark and a sudden weight on the bed stopped him from moving closer.

"Hello Fiyero!" Kurt beamed, snatching up the puppy, Puck and his advances completely forgotten.

The jock internally groaned and rolled onto his back, glaring at the small pup who took all of Kurt attention.

He was getting cockblocked by a frigging _puppy._


	20. Back In Control

**I want to thank all of you for sticking through this story to the end. I'm not super happy with this ending, but I think it came out alright. I may or may not do an epilouge depending on feedback. So enjoy the last and final chapter of Control and thank you all so so so much! -Insert Disclaimer-**

* * *

Kurt sat in the doctor's office nervously, swinging his feet back and forth on the table as he waited for the doctor to come back into his room and give him the verdict. He fidgeted, standing up and pacing before sitting back down and rocking his feet.

"Babe, just calm down. Everything is going to be fine."

"How can you know?" Kurt yelped, glaring down at Noah, who was sitting calmly in the plastic chair, looking at him as if he had gone insane. "How do you know that my stupid mistake didn't ruin the rest of my life. That I don't have internal damage or something like that? God, I'm so _stupid!_"

Puck took that as his cue as he stood up, pulling Kurt into his arms while the boy continued to sit on the table. "Babe, everything is going to be okay. You are _not_ stupid. You made a mistake, but it was. Not. Your. Fault." He whispered, holding him close. "Everybody makes mistakes. Does something that they're not proud of. But you can get through this. You have me, Kurt. I'll help you."

Kurt sighed but smiled, count on Noah to always make him feel better. "Thank you." He whispered softly.

Puck just grinned before sitting back in his seat. He watched as Kurt jumped slightly at his vibrating phone before pulling it out.

Kurt looked down at the newest text message from Blaine and smiled softly. They hadn't talked for a while, especially after the incident. But Kurt had called him one night and explained everything. Why he hadn't called him or answered the phone when he called. Why he was absent from Dalton for so long. Blaine had listened and cried and apologized, then apologized again for apologizing the first time. But things were sorted out now, and they were texting once more with each other.

**How's the dr. apt. going? –B**

Kurt smiled softly before typing in a reply. **Not sure yet, still kinda freaking out. –K**

It wasn't even a full minute before he got another reply, but this one made him feel a million times better.

**Courage. –B**

The door opened then and Kurt nearly lost all of his breathe as the doctor walked inside, holding his clipboard and bearing a kind smile.

"Hello Kurt, Noah." He spoke, acknowledging the mohawked teen as well.

"Hello Doctor." Kurt spoke, on edge.

The older man grinned before turning to Kurt. "It's good news."

The brunette let out a sigh of relief, sinking back onto the table with a large grin, looking at the doctor and telling him he could continue.

"It was bad, you know. But you're strong, Kurt. And your body handled everything you threw at it. You're healthy and should be fine from now on. Just add a few more pounds, make sure you're eating good and exercising correctly. Make sure if you ever feel like you're going to relapse, or need to talk, that you get someone to help immediately."

"Thank you." Kurt breathed, shaking hands with the doctor.

"It was all you and your recovery. You've got a great support system, Kurt. Remember to use it." The doctor smiled, giving one last shake before exiting the room.

Kurt grinned from ear to ear, turning to Noah, where his grin turned to a frown.

"I told you so."

Kurt groaned. "Is this all I'm going to hear?"

Puck grinned, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and walking him towards the door. "Oh yeah."

* * *

"That's wonderful honey!" Carole cried, pulling Kurt into her arms happily as Noah and Kurt told the rest of the family the news. Finn patted him on the back and Burt pulled him close. Fiyero barked happily as Kurt lifted him up, noticing that the puppy was healthy once again.

Puck leaned against the counter, watching Kurt smile happily around his family, joking and teasing. He felt like he could finally breathe for the first time in months. Like all of this was in the past now and that they could move on. But he was worried. Would Kurt not want him anymore now that he was better? What if Kurt realized that Puck was nothing but a nuisance or someone to help him out?

He looked up as Kurt caught his eye, the younger boy smiling happily at him and making his way towards the jock.

Puck grinned. How could he have even though that about the boy? Kurt wasn't shallow.

"I'll always need you." The countertenor spoke as he took him in his arms, freezing. Did the boy read minds or something?

"What?"

"You're looking at me like I'm about to tell you to get out of my house or something. I'm always going to need you, Noah." Kurt whispered, pulling himself closer into the taller males arms.

Puck smirked, kissing the soft brunette locks happily.

"I love you, Noah." Kurt whispered softly, causing his heart to literally sore and beat double time. He pulled Kurt even closer, finally feeling like he wasn't going to break him.

"I love you too, Kurt."

"Boys? We're ordering pizza for dinner, what do you want?"

Kurt perked up at the sound and turned to Carole. "Ooh! Extra broccoli and cheese!" he chirped happily and Carole chuckled as Kurt pranced over like a puppy. "Can we get those garlic knots too? Oh and chicken wings!"

Carole laughed, pulling him into a hug. "Of course, whatever you want sweetie."

Puck took a few strides over, deciding it was now or never to test and make sure Kurt really was better.

"Aren't you afraid that you'll get fat? That's a lot of food." He murmured, feeling a bit bad for the words.

But he was even more surprised when Kurt turned around and smirked up at him. "Nah." He shrugged. "I know how much you like curves anyways." He teased, leaning up on his tiptoes to give him a chaste kiss before making his way towards the living room with everyone else.

Puck walked in slowly, watching Kurt wrestle with Finn for the large lazy boy, Kurt winning of course, by shooting one of his patent glares. Puck grinned at his boyfriend.

Kurt looked back up, a smile on his face as he met Noah's eyes again, motioning him over. As the jock walked towards him he couldn't help but know that everything was going to be alright.

Sure, there were going to be bumps in the road.

Times where he would probably want to just say 'screw it' and go back to the way he was.

But there were also going to be times like now, sitting with his family, curled up on the large chair with Noah while Finn tore the entertainment stand apart looking for a movie, and Carole and his father laughing easily as they ordered the food.

He knew that with his family, with his boyfriend, that everything was perfect.

Kurt grinned, curling into Noah, feeling the press of lips on his forehead, smiling happily.

He finally had control of his life, and where he was going.

He wouldn't want it any other way.


	21. Epilogue: Little Pieces Of Perfection

**It took quite some time, but it's finally here as promised; the epilogue to Control! I can't believe that it took so long and that it was so short, but it felt just right to have it now. I recently got a message from **ArtemisBL **asking to translate my fic into FINNISH with their friend! Which is seriously the most amazing thing that I have ever experienced in my life and it just made my heart absolutely soar with disbelief. So if it does happen I'll make sure to post the link! :D But thank you all so very much for the support that you have given this fic, and the kind words to help me continue on with it, you all are simply wonderful and amazing. Thank you! :)**

** I disclaim.**

**-BreeZombiee (Brittney) xoxo**

* * *

"And what made you have these feelings?" The brunette murmured softly, his hands clasped neatly on his crossed knee, his eyes sparkling with warmth and concern as the teenager sits across from him on the couch, fidgeting and avoiding eye contact as his skinny wrists twist around each other.

"It's just….everyone wants so much of me….I thought….maybe if I were skinnier….if I was perfect…"

The man nods his head, gesturing for the teen to continue.

"It's the only thing that I can control, you know? Like, society chooses who I should love. My parents choose my curfew. Teachers choose my assignments. Coach chooses our plays. But…I can control how much I eat, how much I get rid of. It's easy."

The teen looks up at his therapist with such worry and hurt in his eyes that the brunette almost loses his breath. But then the doctor smiles, kind and smooth like porcelain, before setting down his note pad.

"Can I tell you something, Trevor?"

The teen nods quickly, fidgeting and sitting up in his seat.

"I went through the same thing as you. I wanted control of my life, so I starved myself and I threw up whatever I could. I dieted and exercised. But I caused a lot of damage to my body. I had a heart attack and slipped into a coma. I almost didn't wake up, Trevor."

The teen looks horrified by the news, but the doctor continues to speak. "I relapsed and I had so much trouble just trying to be normal again. But I had a support system; people who loved me and helped me get better. And so do you, Trevor. You don't have to be perfect, nobody is. All you have to do is be yourself, and you're going to be loved for just being yourself. I know that you can do it if you just try and you just accept the hands that are holding themselves out for you."

Trevor smiles then, nodding his head softly as he stands, ready to leave after their weekly hour session. "I can try." The tall teen murmurs to him.

The doctor nods and stands to give the boy a gentle hug before the teen starts towards the door, pausing and turning back to smile. "Thank you, Mr. Hummel." He grins before walking out the door.

Kurt smiles to himself and grabs his briefcase to make his trip home.

* * *

Kurt opens the door to his home and locks it behind him, setting his briefcase on the floor and kicking off his shoes.

"Is that you, babe?"

"Yes!" Kurt calls, making his way towards the kitchen to see his husband cooking at the stove.

The tall male turns to smile at him, pulling him into a hug before giving him a deep kiss. Kurt molds into the man and can't help but smile as their lips move against one another's.

"How was work?" Noah asks with a smile, running his fingers through the brunette's hair.

"Great. I really got Trevor to open up today. He reminds me so much of myself."

Noah beams down at him, pressing another kiss to his lips. "I'm so proud of you babe. So strong and beautiful." He smiles.

Kurt blushes, similar to the way he did on their wedding day, and he glances away.

He can't believe how wonderful his life turned out. How easy everything is. He wishes he could go back to his teenage self and tell him that everything was going to get better. That one day he would be confident in his body. That one day he would be helping kids just like him. That he would be a male model for magazines and runways and commercials. That he would marry the famous actor Noah Puckerman, and it would be like a fairytale romance.

Kurt can't believe how much he lucked out. That ten years ago, he was a seventeen year old boy who could count his ribs and was scared of his body, almost dying of a heart attack. And now he was successful and comfortable with his body and making a difference.

He was a worker for The Trevor Project, helping to talk teens through situations in his life, with Noah as a volunteer right alongside him. They had a wonderful life together, and he wakes up every morning grateful, and in even more in disbelief then the last.

Noah seems to sense his thoughts because he smiles and kisses him once more. "You're amazing." He beams, kissing Kurt's neck as the man flushes once more.

"I love you." Kurt whispers softly.

"I love you too." Noah beams, their breath mingling and hands intertwining.

A small cry sounds from the monitor in the kitchen, signaling the awakening of a six month old baby girl.

Kurt grins and presses a kiss to Noah's cheek. "I've got this one."

Fiyero Junior barks and follows him up the stairs as he makes his way up to his life, his baby girl. Noah follows soon after and as the two look down on the rosy cheeked child with Noah's curly brown hair and Kurt's glasz eyes they can't help but smile.

Kurt's gotten everything that he ever wanted, and his life is nothing short of perfect.


End file.
